WAR NARRATIVES 



BY 



MEN IN THE SERVICE 



PRESENTED TO 



C0NGRE3S1ONAL LIBRAKT 



BY 

Young, Smyth, Field Company 

IN HONOR OF THE MEN OF 
OUR ORGANIZATION WHO 
SERVED IN THE ARMY, NAVY 
AND MARINE CORPS DURING 
THE GREAT WAR 




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OF THE 



The Great World War 



1917-18 



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VICTORY MEDAL-REVERSE 



THE PERSONAL EXPERIENCES 
OF OUR BOYS IN THE SERVICE 



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JUN 8 1920 



DEDICATORY 

To those other brave Soldiers, Sailors 
and Marines, who have not returned from 
"The Great World War" to write for us 
and for posterity the narratives of their 
experiences, privations and sufferings, hut 
who have given their last full measure of 
devotion, in defence of their native land, 
or for the supremacy of the land of their 
adoption, as well as for the maintenance of 
that Liberty which our forefathers estab- 
lished, and by which alone our existence 
as a Nation is made sure, this volume is 
very reverently dedicated. 




WILLIAM J. BOGGS 

CHARLES B. BOWDEX, Jr. 

MARK R COSTELLO 

GEORGE ^^^ COULTER, 

HAMPDEN H.I)ASHIELL 

ALEXANDER H. D VVISSON.aR. 

HAROLD R.DITMARS 

JOHN A.DIiXANTY 

JAMES DANIEL 

WALTER L.FREDERICK 

ROBERT J. GORDON. Jr. 

STEWART W. GRETZINGER 

G. RALPH GUTHRIE 

ANDERS C. HANSEN 

JOSEPH HOOTON 

ROBERT HOWE 

VINCENT R.JAGGARD 

JOHN H.KENDLE.JR. 

WESLEY L.KETTERER 

ROY KOCH 



^0\jL,AAj ^. .».-• o«^xyLLAND 

GEORGE WMACFETRIDGE 

EDWARD 0. MC HENRY, Jr. 

LLOYD T. MORRIS 

ERNEST PAGET 

WILLIAM J. PERRINE 

SARGENT A. PIERCE 

JOHN PURDY 

CHARLES B. RAPP 

.HARRY ROBINSON 

WILLIAM K. ROBINSON 

ARTHUR D. SANFORD 

GEORGE F. SCANLON 

GEORGE L.SCHAFFER 

GORDON S.C. SMYTH 

WARREN C. STEELE 

FRANK ULMAN 
HAMILTON. D.VOGDES 
WENDELL H.WALKER 
FRED N. WATER BURY 



"THAT THIS NATION, UNDER' COD, SHALL HAVE A NEW 
BIRTH OF FREEDOM, AND THAT COVERNnENT OF THE 
PEOPLE, BY TriE PEOPLE, FOR THE PEOPLE, 
SHALL NOT PERISH FROM THE EARTH'.' 



EXPLANATORY 

It is a matter of deep regret that some of our brave 
boys could not be reached by letter, or in person, after their 
return home, and that in consequence, their several stories 
are missing from this list. 

Each of them has, however, written his history upon 
the pages of the Nation's Great Book, as one, who served 
his Country in her hour of need, and such a record can 
never be efifaced. 

The stories which follow in this volume will give to 
everyone who reads them, new visions of the sacrifices and 
hardships of that brave body of men, who without reserve, 
dedicated themselves to the Cause of Liberty, of which our 
Land shines forth, as the greatest example, among all the 
peoples of the earth. 



"Give us Men! 

Men who, when the tempest gathers, 

Grasp the standard of their fathers 

In the thickest of the fight: 

Men who strike for home and ahar 

(Let the coward cringe and falter) 

God defend the right! 

True as truth though lorn and lonely, 

Tender — as the brave are, only: 

Men who tread where saints have trod, 

Men for Country and for God! 

Give us men! I say again, again, 

Give us such men." 

— The Bishop of Exeter. 



PRESS OK 

YOUNG, SMYTH, FIELD COMPANY 

PHILADELPHIA 
1920 




PHOTO BY BACHRACH 



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EDGAR L. BANCROFT 




PRIL 7, 1917, I enlisted in the U. S. Navy. Well do I 

remember that day. It was not until September 10, 

1917, that I was called into active service and reported 

at Pier 19, North Wharves, as an app^ entice seaman. 

I, along with the men who reported the same day, was 

sent to Wissahickon Barracks, Cape May, N. J. 

When we arrived there we were given inspection and 
clothes that "fit us quick." Our first meal at the barracks 
consisted of cold beans and cheese. Just think what I left 
behind me at home! 

All I can now remember is drill, drill, drill, and to be 
3'elled at by a fellow no better in civil life than oneself and 
called a "mush head." Later on I became a little better than 
a greenhorn and was put on guard at the wireless station. 
It was the da}' before Thanksgiving, and I was wishing I was 
home to get some of those good meals that mother prepared. 
We were relieved at 6.30 A. M., Thanksgiving morning, and 
when I got back to the barracks I found a box of good things 
to eat from Young, Smyth, Field Co. I ate some of them 
and they tasted good, and the rest of the boys, who also had 
some of the good things, pronounced them fine. 

I was beginning to get tired of the barracks, and each 
day it seemed to get harder. At last, on December 6, 1917, I 
was transferred to the Submarine Patrol Boat No. 639. 

We patrolled the water front of Philadelphia Navy Yard 
nntil the ice formed in the river, when we had to stop. It 
was a cold winter, and all that we had was three oil stoves 
to keep us warm, one of which was no good. 

For a while we had to cut the ice to keep it from crushing 
in the sides of the boat. Once, while cutting the ice, I fell 

(9) 



10 EDGAR L. BANCROFT 

into the water and had the good luck to come up where the 
iee had been cut. It took me about three hours to get warm. 

I was transferred on April 7th to the U. S. S. C. 340. We 
put her in commission, and I want to say that I would not 
want the job of loading a battleship, if we had to load lier in 
proportion to what we put on this 110-foot boat. 

Soon after putting the S. C. 340 in commission I was 
assigned, with a few other friends, to the S. C. 342. Our 
superiors must have thought my friends and I were 
good for that kind of a job. First we put food supplies and 
cooking utensils aboard, then bunks, ammunition, guns,, 
anchors, chains, paint, lines, rope, oil and various other items 
too numerous to mention. 

It is fine work trying to put 200 yards of seven or eight- 
inch hauser rope aboard a boat. Of course, we were still 
green at the job. We thought it was labor instead of fighting, 
but it all led up to the day of May 1st, when we were ready 
for sea. 

On the 6th of May, 1918, we left Philadelphia to see her 
no more for a while, and sailed down the Delaware River to 
Lewes, Del., where we anchored over night. 

The Captain divided the crew into two parts, the Execu- 
tive Officer taking one half and the Captain the other. Wo 
were made to stand four hours on duty and four hours off. 
The first night at sea we could not get accustomed to going 
without lights, but later on our eyes became like cat's eyes 
and we could see in the dark as well as in the light. When 
we went down below the ship's deck we drew in on our 
cigarettes, and that gave us light enough to see about us. In 
due time we arrived in New York harbor, but did not get a 
good look at old "Liberty," as it was getting dark and she was 
not lighted. It seemed hard to pass her without saying 
"good-bye." 

We went on to Huntington Bay and anchored tliere for 
the night. I went in for a swim and thought T would bo an 
icicle before I got out of the water. 

One seaman said : "TIh^ army boys yell about the rats 
and cooties, but to ])e wet and liave your bunks wot both in- 



EDGAR L. BANCROFT 11 

side and out seems to me to be worse." It surely was a hard 
life. The Marines on the Buffalo said they did not see how 
we stood it. Some of them lost good food looking at us. Re- 
member, a sub-chaser is only 110 feet long, 15-foot beam, with 
twent3^-three men aboard. You will think that I am putting 
in all the hardships and not the good things, but the latter 
did not come until the Armistice was signed. 

We left Huntington Bay for the Bermuda Islands and 
landed there on June 15th, being towed into port, because we 
ran short of gas. We had shore leave every other day until 
July 5th. While in port we repaired the engines and the 
damage that was done by the storms. We also painted the 
ship while waiting for the remaining convoy. 

On July 4th the rest of the convoy arrived, consisting of 
the U. S. S. "Bridgeport," 21 chasers, 4 tugs, an oil tanker 
and a barge of barbed wire for the boys at the front. 

On July 5tli we set sail for the Azore Islands. The trip 
took us fourteen days. Every other day we would gas up 
from the oil tanker. Many a time I thought we would crush 
our little boat bj^ banging up against the big ones. Orders 
came so thick and fast and loud that it seemed like a mad 
house. Standing four hours on duty and four off at sea one 
soon gets so tired that he could sleep in a soap box. And 
oh, how we dreaded to gas up. The dread was worse than 
being fired on by a submarine. 

We were always on the lookout for the German U-boats 
and soon began to think there were no such animals. 

We reached the Azores at last and went ashore to stretch 
our legs and arms. Think of it — we bought pineapples four 
for a quarter, eggs twenty-eight cents a dozen and feasted on 
chicken. AVe lived well in this port, as all sailors do while 
on shore leave. We had a real meal for 86 cents, but when 
we came back again to this same spot the prices had advanced 
to $1.15. 

From the Azores we sailed to Brest, France, being towed 
three days, so that we would not have to gas up at sea while 
on this trip. 

On August 5th we were awakened about 6 o'clock in the 
morning, and I got up and went to the gangway and was 



12 EDGAR L. BANCROFT 



on deck before I was awake, I guess I would still be asleep 
it* a nice cold wave had not brought me to life. 

Two torpedoes were fired, one at the "Buffalo's" bow and 
the other at the "Bridgeport's" stern. The one that went for 
the "Bridgeport" passed our bow by three yards. It was like 
being at a ball game at first, the boys j^elling, "Hit it, DaA'c," 
"Do it this time." AVe dropped depth charges after the subma- 
rine had submerged and I then took my station at the listening 
tubes. When we dropped the first depth charge it sent our 
stove to heaven and closed the hatches on the boat. We stayed 
out until 2 o'clock in the afternoon hunting the U-boats. Our 
Quartermaster had been at the wheel from 2 o'clock A. .M. 
until 2 P. M., and when I relieved him he fell over exhausted. 
Our port engine went back on us and we were therefore 
ordered into port. Out of the whole convoy only five chasers 
and two destroyers stayed out. The rest convoyed the ship 
into port. 

One forgets that he is tired when something unusual like 
this happens. We had nothing to eat from 5.30 P. M. until 
3 o'clock the following afternoon. Even then no one thought 
of eating — it was to get the U-boat that eYery one wanted. 

The first night after we arrived at Brest we went ashore, 
and were surprised to see how many stores had the sign "Eng- 
lish Spoken Here." After leaving l^rest we went to Ply- 
mouth, England, and stayed there a few days for engine 
i-epairs, and then proceeded to Queenstown, Ireland. We 
arrived there on August 23d, and tlie next day we went up 
the river Lee to Cork, where we took on gas and oil sup- 
plies. While going up the old river we passed Blarney Castle. 
Upon arriving back at Queenstown we were all paid. Oli, 
joy! Ask a sailor what it means to be paid. 

On August 26, 1918, we left Queenstown harbor and pa- 
trolled the Irish coast. The first daj^ we went to l^allinskel- 
lig Baj^, and the second day out we ran into a nice southwest 
storm, and it surely was a storm. Four of our men woi-e 
taken sick and two were hurt. We had to come nearer shore 
to hunt for a harbor that we might enter until the worst of 
the storm was over. AVe picked out the Keinnare River. On 
August 28th we went into the harbor of Bearhaven to leave 



EDGAR L. BANCROFT 13 

our sick men in care of a mother ship and, to our surprise, 
we found there the U. S. S. "Oklahoma" and "xNevada." It 
made us think we were in "God's Countrj^" 

We stayed in port for a few days only, and durin<^ that 
time I went aboard the U. S. Sub. A. L. 10, to listen for sub- 
marines and to learn to tell the difference between steamers, 
tramps, destroyers and mine sweepers. This was one of my 
duties when aboard ship on j^atrol dut}'. 

On September 1st we left Bear haven, and that night the 
S. C. 345, caused some excitement by dropping' depth charges. 
The report was that slie had been fired on by a submarine. 
AVhile on our patrols we had a number of things like this 
happen to us. We also received many false messages. 

Another night while on patrol a southwest storm came 
upon us and again we headed for port, running three engines 
at 10 knots each, but we only made two miles in fifty-eight 
minutes. It seemed that ours was not the only boat headed 
for shore. Of course, we were all running without lights and 
one could not see more than ten feet ahead of the ship. We 
almost rammed a schooner, because ueither crew saw the other 
boat. I expected to see one or both of tlie boats go to the "Port 
of Missing Ships." 

Many times Ave received messages from our base that sub- 
marines had been sighted, but we never seemed to be able to 
find them. One day we sighted a dead whale floating up-side 
down, just showing the white part of its body. At a distance 
it looked like a periscope, and we rushed madly down upon 
it, every one standing ready for instant action. It seemed 
that we were alwa3^s ready, but never got into real action. 

AVe did not hear of the wonderful news on November 11, 
1918, until we came to port that evening. We were then sig- 
nalled by the "Bushnell" that the Armistice had been signed. 
The Captain told the first Quartermaster to have the message 
repeated, as he thought I had made a mistake in receiving it. 
But it was true. The Armistice had been indeed signed. 

It was a great change when one conld walk around the 
boat with lights turned on, and it certainly was a wonderful 
sight to see the battleships lighted up at night. One could 



14 EDGAR L. BANCROFT 

open the port lioles and let a little fresh air in, without being 
afraid of letting a little light shine out. 

On November 20th one-half of the crew was given its first 
liberty to London. The boys went by way of Dublin, Belfast 
and Liverpool. 

We worked hard from that time on, because we had in- 
spection every Saturday and it w^as more exacting than during 
the war. We put up a new life line and painted the ship, and 
then went into dry dock and repaired the hull. 

On November 29th we were under way for home. At 
Queenstown they gave us a fine send-off. It made us know 
that that day would not be forgotten for some time. 

I was granted a two weeks' leave to London and had an 
enjoyable time. The first thing that I did was to go to the 

















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U. S. S. Patterson — Modern Destroyer 

Y. M. C. A. hut for a bed and for meals. We visited the 
Parliament House, King's Palace and the Bloody Tower, which 
is part of the great "Tower of London." AVe saw also the 
submarine "Deutchland" U-155. It was some LJ-boat, with 
two 5.9-inch guns aboard of her. We had to keep moving, 
because if we stopped the English thought we wanted to take 
something as a remembrance. 

We went also to St. Paul's Cathedral and the Temple 
of the Crusaders. The guide told me to move from the pave- 
ment, as I was standing on Oliver Goldsmith's grave. 

We visited "The Old Curiosity Shop" of Charles Dickens. 
They say it is tlie same as in his day, with only a few slight 
changes. We also went with a Y. M. C. A. guide to Nelson's 



EDGAR L. BANCROFT 15 

Moimnieiit at Charing Cross. The next clay we went to see 
tlie King's horses. He has some fine ones. Eight of them, 
all alike, were used to pull his gilded carriage. The same day 
we also saw the German planes and guns, and that evening 
the Y. M. C. A. gave a concert and dance. I had the best 
time of my life that night. 

I had the pleasure of meeting a few Y. M. C. A. girls from 
I*eiuisylvania. During my stay in London I went to the 
theatre and saw ^'Freedom of the Seas." I also went to a 
boxing match at the National Sporting Club, at which Admiral 
Sims was present and spoke on behalf of the boys. 

The English tried hard to please us, but there was always 
the feeling of dislike between us. One evening I had the 
l)leasure of talking to Miss Helen Jones, of New York, who 
was in charge of the girls from U. S. 

In due time we left the Y. M. C. A. hut to take the train 
back to our ship. When we reported at the base we found 
that the ship had left for a trip along the coast. We took 
the train to Fowey, England, and arrived in the morning 
just as the crew was getting ready to leave. I had the 
pleasure of casting the last line from the dock. 

On this trip we visited Falmouth, and when we arrived 
again at Plymouth the other half of the crew went to London. 
I acted as the cook for six days. It was some job to cook for 
a lot of hungry sailors. We also went to Penzance, Eng- 
land, and one night on coming back I was awakened by an 
awful yelling, firing of guns and pistols. One of the boys 
asked me if I was going to celebrate New Year's. I told him 
that I was too tired. That was enough. He went on deck 
and got two Colts' pistols and sat over my port hole, firing 
12 rounds, and then, as he repeated it, I simply had to get 
up and celebrate, after all. I got even with him, however, 
as I had the 4 to 8 watch that morning. When I went on 
watch I started to celebrate again and one of the boys asked 
me what was the idea. "Well," said I, "it is New Year's in 
the States." We fired guns, blew the whistles, rang bells and 
altogether had a very good time. Ours was not the only boat 
that celebrated. Altogether there were forty-two boats, and 
every one of them doing the same thing. We never got up 



16 EDGAR L. BANCROFT 



imtil 10.30 New Year's morning. An extra nap is something 
one seldom gets oji board a boat. Wliat was our joy, when 
we did get up, to receive mail from home. This was an event 
worth celebrating. 

January 4th four other fellows and I were granted 
leave to Ijondon. It was pa.y day and I received the large 
sum of five pounds. There were no trains ruiniing until Sun- 
day, and so we returned to the ship that night to wait until 
next morning. Thus was one day of our leave gone. 

When in London I again went to the Eagle hut and stayed 
there one day. Then I was given a letter to go to Mrs. Arm- 
strong, in llounslow, in the suburbs of London. I guess I 
was among the first sailors to go up there, as an Englishman 
asked me, "Are you English?" "No!" said a friend who was 
with me. "Where do j^ou come from, then?" "We are from 
the United States." "Oh, how fine," was his remark. 

So my friend and I visited Hampton Court Palace and, 
later on, the oldest Roman Church in Eiigiand. 

I went again to London the third day to meet the rest 
of our party and return to Plymouth. Fifty of us were put 
to work at once unloading six coal cars. That was a great 
come down after the leave of absence we had and the places 
we visited. Later on we went to the base and took off our 
depth charges, Y gun, 3-inch guns and ammunition. These 
changes made the boat look better and we were all wishing 
to go back on a large boat. Later we took off the "K" 
listening tubes and trawler. I heard a great noise and rushed 
on deck to inqjiire what the trouble was. "Oh, nothing," was 
the reply, "only the 300-pound air tube broke." 

Now that the listening tubes were in use no more I took 
an examination for Quartermaster, 3d class, and, much to 
my delight, I passed. 

The Executive Officer told us that we would leave on the 
15th instant. 

On February 11th we all went to a show, given by the 
boys to say "farewell" to Plymouth, England. 

On Satuixlay, the 15th, we left for Brest, France, after 
a good send-off. At Brest we took on moi'c food supplies, 
gas, oil, paint and convas. The "Great Northern" came to 



EDGAR L. BANCROFT 17 

port and took tlie soldiers home. Oh, how we all wished we 
were in their places. Every da}^ there were ships leaving 
for the United States. 

One day a eJapanese battleship and seven destroyers came 
into port and took four German U-boats back with them. 

The battleships ''Oliio," "New Jersey" and "Nebraska" left 
at the same time, as did the "Leviathan," which carried the 
soldiers home. 

Dnring' onr stay at Brest I went ashore every other night, 
and one Sunday I heard the No. 115 U. S. Engine Band play. 
It seemed as if we were back in tlie States while listening to 
the music. 

Some of tlie boys had gone to Paris. I was wishing that 
onr mothei- shi]) would hurrj^ and come to port so that we 
could get paid as I had not received any money for about a 
month and a half. 

The "Hannibal" came in with the battleships "Missouri" 
and "Nebr-aska" to take more troops home. This was the 
secojid time the "Nebraska" had been in and we all wished 
we could sail with her homeward. 

On the following Sunday we were paid and given a 
seventy-two hour leave to Paris, and with our money in our 
jeans we made the trip. We did not have very much time, 
but managed to see Napoleon's Tomb at the Hotel des In- 
valides, and I also saw the great war picture representing 
all the Allies. I saw also Cleopatra's needle and obelisk, which 
had been brought from the Nile, in Egypt. 

AVhen I returned to Brest I passed down one street while 
President Wilson was going down another to take the night 
train to Paris. 

AVe had planned to leave on March 19th, but the storms 
detained us and we did not sail until the following day, and 
I had the four to eight telephone watch. As usual, we ran 
into a storm. I was never sea sick, but I was often wet and 
cold, which seemed to me to be almost as bad. After the 
storm the sea was like glass, and the trip was fairly good all 
the way to Lisbon, Portugal. When we arrived at Lisbon 
there was a rumor that we were going to be sent to Archangel, 



18 EDGAR L. BANCROFT 

Kussia. Oh, how our hearts sank within us at this prospect. 
We repaired onr engines, painted the ship, etc., and stayed 
here until April 6th. 

Lisbon is a pretty place, with its parks, but oh, tlic people. 
It is like taking Paris' fast life and New York's up-to-date 
life, and putting' them together you have Lisbon. Most every- 
thing you see there has been made in the United States. When 
we left Lisbon we left with a lot of hard tack, but only ten 
loaves of bread for twenty-three men. 

We had a fine trip to the Azore Islands, except at one 
time when one of the men of the S. C. 344 Avas washed over- 
board. The boat in our rear was out of povsition and by good 
luck they picked up the sailor We arrived in the Islands on 
Friday and tied up to the good old ship U. S. S. "Buffalo." 
Here I laid in a store of cand}^ tobacco and writing paper 
and tried to get one of those famous chicken dinners, but tliis 
time it cost $1.15 instead of 86 cents. After making ready 
for a fourteen-day trip to the Bermudas, we sailed on April 
22d and arrived there in ten days. We were disabled for a 
while on the 23d, as our steering cable broke, but it was soon 
repaired; the port engine shaft also broke, but the mother 
ship repaired it. We were able to paint the ship again on 
our way over, as the sea was very smooth. Of course, we 
wanted it to look its best Avlien going back to tlie States. We 
arrived at the Bermuda Islands on May 2d, and I received 
twenty- three letters from home. The S. C. 343, 344 and our 
boats were all tied together for repairs. Ma}^ 6tli, just after 
dinner, we heard a low noise, then an explosion. We all 
rushed on deck and found tlie 343 in flames and enveloped 
in black smoke. It was impossible to see four feet ahead of 
us. One of my shij)mates and I ran over and cast our lines 
off the 343. We then returned to our ship to get under way. 
We had no engine with which to move, as it was being re- 
paired. I heard a scream on the 343 and made out a human 
form moving up her gangway. The maji was in ilames. A 
wireless ()])erat()r named Buck, from Milwaukee, put the fire 
out with an extinguisher. Wliile all this was going on neither 
we nor the 344 could move. Orders were coming right and 
left. Another fellow and I got in a rowboat and went for 



EDGAR L. BANCROFT 19 

the injured man on board the 343. We managed to get him 
in tlie boat with ns and I had to row until a motor cutter 
tlirew us a line and towed us ashore. The "Monitor," sta- 
tioned at Bermuda, had been watching us, and, realizing the 
situation, sent the boat to help us get the man ashore. 

I never knew what an oil and gas fire meant, but I know 
now. The S. C. 343 had about 2,700 gallons of gasoline and 
about 200 gallons of oil aboard, but luckily she had taken her 
ammunition off. The boat burned to the water's edge and 
sank. Later on she was raised and taken out to deep water. 
I learned later that our ship had been towed out into the 
stream. There were five fellows hurt. Three had either arms 
or legs broken. 

We left Bermuda May 10th, and arrived in Charleston, 
S. C, on the 15th. We received a welcome from the Red 
Cross and Knights of Columbus. The second day we were 
ordered to Philadelphia, our home port. Every one stayed 
up all night to get a look at the Overfalls lightship. We could 
liardly wait until morning. But, alas, Avhen we arrived in 
the l*liiladelpliia Navy Yard there was not a soul to welcome 
us. No one even noticed us. 

I received a pass that night and went home to my people 
as a Coxswain, wearing a sharpshooter's badge, also an over- 
seas bar. They thought I was an Admiral. 

Life was now worth living and I began to fight for my 
discharge, but it only came on June 9, 1919, when I was 
finally released from service. 

Kdgar L. Bancroft. 





PHOTO BY BACHRACH 



VJ^clA^L..^^ /3cr^<^ 



WILLIAM J. BOGGS 



[WAS mustered into the service on April 26. 1918. and 
was sent to Camp Lee. Va. After a preliminary train- 
gggg ing', lastino: a little over three v^^eeks, I was sent abroad 
with Battery E, 313th Field Artillery, 8()th Divi- 
sion. Our destination was Bordeaux, France. We sailed on 
the U. S. S. "Siboney." The trip across lasted fifteen days 
and, believe me, it was some trip. I was sick almost the 
whole journey and was sure glad to place both feet on terra 
firma once more. 

Fi'om Bordeaux we went to Camp Jenicourt and, after 
remaining there two weeks, we were removed to a little French 
town named Aversac. Our stay here was short, only remain- 
ing long- enough to receive our guns, horses and other equip- 
ment. 

There was an amusing incident which occurred while in 
Aversac when we received our first batch of horses. There 
was an iron gray among the lot, which one of the boys (an 
Irishman, Iw the way), took a great fancy to. One night, 
after we had been feeding the horses, this Irishman was run- 
ning around very much excited. One of the boys asked him 
what was the matter, and he replied : "I am trying to find 
out if you fed tlie M^lue AVan,' " and from that time on he 
was known in our batter}^ as the "Blue Wan." 

After receiving our full equipment we were transferred 
to Camp AFeuccon, near Vaunes, where we received our final 
training. AVe then left in side-door Pullmans and fiat cars 
for the front. After riding three days in these luxurious 
cars we reached our destination, that is, as far as we could 
go by rail. The rest of the journey was hiding in the woods 

(21) 



22 WILLIAM J. BOGGS 



in the day time and hiking by iiiglit. We eventually reached 
the battle-front and went into action on the night of Sep- 
tember 27tli. 

It surely was some nigiit. I had often heard the expres- 
sion, "Jlell bi'oke loose," and often wondered where it orig- 
inated ; now I know. I have often heard heavy thunder and 
seen vivid flashes of lightning, but they are only whispers 
and flickering flames to what I experienced that night. It 
was a night I shall never forget : it seemed as if every time 
our battery fired our 75's I jumped two feet into the air. 
We soon became accustomed to it, however, and it did not 
bother ns at all. During this offensive we became experts in 
digging fox holes to lie in. It was here that I became ac- 
quainted with our dear little friends, the cooties. I had lost 
my blankets and found another pair, wraf)ped myself up in 
them and settled down for a sleep. I suppose I had been 
asleep about two or three hours when I woke up feeling as 
if I had received a charge of liquid fire, but I had not ; it was 
my friends the cooties, which I had adopted with the blankets, 
introducing themselves, and, believe me, we were fast friends 
for some time. Many a shirt ridding I had, but it seemed as 
if I never wonld be rid of them. But to get back to my ex- 
periences : as it became monotonous to remain in our dug- 
outs, we soon grew careless and did not bother much, and 
would show ourselves in plain daylight. Of course, it was 
only natural that we should be sighted by the enemy air- 
planes, and this was the cause of many of the boys of our 
battery being either killed or wounded. I myself saw many 
of my buddies going down just on account of this careless- 
ness. 

I was attached to the battery as a machine gunner, hav- 
ing spent part of my time while training attending machine 
gun school. In every battery of French artillery they have 
two machine gun squads, and I was in one of these scpiads. 
Part of our duty was to keep away hostile airplanes and i\Uo 
to cover up our retreat, if we had to do such a thing. 

I am glad to say that we never had to do the latter. Jerry 
seemed to like to shell us every day when it was time to eat 
and also about 4 A. M. every morning or some other weird 



WILLIAM J. BOGGS 23 



hour when wc least expec^ted it. Can you imagine being 
awakened in the morning at this hour by the screeching and 
Inirsting of shells";? I never liked the sound of an alarm 
clock, bnt now I liave all the respect in the world for one. 

It seemed as if I had a liorse shoe with me, as one day 
one of my buddies, Jim McAnany, by name, was hit with a 
piece of shrapnel while standing ahmgside of me; another 
time one of my buddies offered me a pocket testament, v/hich 
I refnsed as I already had one that my mother gave me. At 
that he threw it in a dugout a few feet away, as he said 




Boche Prisoners Taken by 2d Battalion, 6th Regiment Marines 
(2d Division) — Champagne Drive October, 1918. 

he had no use for it. "Oh, don't do that," I said, and stooped 
to pick it up, and this fellow standing directly behind me 
was struck with a bullet. Had I remained standing I would 
have received the shot instead of him. One evening shortly 
after mess a German shell landed among us and two were 
killed and four wounded and I had the shivers for awhile. 
I soon, however, became used to seeing our boys killed and 
wounded. 

I was again transferred, this time going to Headquarters 
Company, being attached to Signal Corps and acting as 



24 WILLIAM J. BOGGS 



teleplioiie man and operator. Did I like my new job? I'll 
say I did not. We liad to lay wires between the artillery 
and infantrj^ observation posts, and, by the way, we had 
to carry abont one mile of wire on reels on onr shonlders 
when we first started ont. We had to keep these wires in 
operation and went out many times under shell fire to repaii* 
them. One night while serving in this capacity I lost another 
buddie. Four of us had gone out to repair these wires, which 
had been cut by the heavy shell fire of the Germans during 
the day. We had discovered where the wire was cut, and. 
wiiile connecting the wires, discovered that we did not have 
enough wire with us. One of the boys therefore was sent 
back to bring enough wire to make repairs. After waiting 
for a time, which to us seemed hours, one of the other boys 
volunteered to go and see what was keeping him so long. 
After he left us the first boy returned. We made repairs, 
and on our way back came across our other buddie, dead. ITe 
had been shot through the head by a piece of shrapnel. 



We were one happj^ bunch on the morning of November 
11th, when word was passed around that an Armistice had 
been signed. It seemed almost too good to be true. I remem- 
ber that night while on duty at the switchboard (I was on 
for four hours), I had my first chance in weeks to write home ; 
in fact, I had to do something to keep awake, and I was glad 
that I did take the opportunity then to write to my parents 
tliat I had come safely through. It was my last and only 
chance to write for about one month, as we started on oni* 
long-remembered hike to Germany. 

On the morning of November 12tli we boys of the 313th 
Field Artillery went into Stenay, where we remained until 
November ir)th. On that date I was transferred to Uattery 
"U," 149th Field Artillery, of the famous Rainbow Division, 
and we started on our long hike into Germany as a part of 



WILLIAM J. BOGGS 25 



the Army of Occupation. After marching- tlirongh France, 
I5elt>iiim and Lnxemburg, never more than forty-eight lioui's 
heliind the retreating German Arm.y, we finally arrived at 
01 n- destination, Derman, Germany, foot-sore, weary and about 
half starved. Believe me, I came nearly making the hospital 
after this liiko. I lost about twenty-five pounds of flesh and 
was all in, but there were plenty of the other boys just like me. 

Here we were on double post and patrol guard every othei- 
night. What got me was vny luck to be on guard ])oth Christ- 
iiuis and New Year's da}^ Speaking of New Year's puts mo 
ill mind of New Year's Eve. When our boys opened up with 
their revolvers, machine guns, etc., to celebrate, we turned 
them on the tiling on the German roofs and they thought 
that war was declared again. Our life in German}^ after 
awhile grew monotonous and we all began to wish for home. 
I was luck^v enough to draw a furlough, being sent to Aix 
les Bains for seven days, and I led the life of a gentleman. 
Good clean beds, lots to eat and the best of it was it didn't 
cost us a penny, the Government was paying for it all. 

We returned again to Derman about the middle of i\ Larch. 
Our boys were moved to another German town, Gelsdorf, 
where we remained until April Ttli. We then hiked to Ber- 
magen, remained here two daj^s and again hiked it for Oben- 
winter and remained here over night, and then started for 
liome. After a ride lasting seventy-two hours we finally 
nrrived at Brest, where we soon tired of rain and night detail. 

On Good Frida}', April 18th (that was a good Friday in 
my estimation), we started for home on the Leviathan, 10,500 
happy boys, and arrived in New York, P^riday, April 25th, 
in tlie midst of a heav}^ snow storm. 

We were sent to Camp Merritt, where I had the pleasui'o 
of meeting my mother and father on Sunday the 27tli, and 



26 WILLIAM J. BOGGS 



we surely were a liappy bunch. After remainiii<>' at ('ain[) 
Merritt until Wednesday, April 30tb, I started on the last 
leg of my journey to Camp Dix, N. J., where I was mustered 
out of service on May 3d, and, believe me, cars did not move 
fast enough for me, so I jumped in a taxi at Front and 
Market Streets and then home. 



I participated in Meuse-Argonne offensive and a Few minor 

William J. Bof;c;s. 



engagements 





PHOTO BY BACHRACH 



ULc^Jl^ (9> cH-o->.«^Uv,.^. 



CHARLES B. BOWDEN, JR. 



I SPENT my entire time of active service in the United 
States Naval Reserve Force at Wissaliickon Barracks, 
ggggj Cape May, N. J., so I will try to tell in the following- 
lines what the life of a gob in a navy training camp 
is like, and also of a few incidents that happened that might 
be of interest. 

On July 24, 1918, I was ordered to proceed from my home 
to Cape May. I imagined I was going to have a nice snmmer 
vacation at the seashore, but Wissahickon is situated abont 
three miles back of the town, and for the first three weeks 
I was not allowed out of the camp. By the time these three 
weeks were up I had fully decided that the name the fellows 
had given to Cape May was pretty nearly right, and that was, 
"The place that God forgot." 

On my arrival with about a hundred others I was pnt 
through a physical examination and received my first shot. 
I was then given my uniform and other paraphernalia and 
the whole lot was piled in a sea-bag, which is a heavy canvas 
bag, about three feet high and a foot across. In this bag you 
keep everything which belongs to you. 

After getting all of this, what looked to me then like a lot 
of junk, I was sent to the barracks that was to be my home 
while in training. Here I was given a hammock and a bnnch 
of rope (which the P. O. called clues), and told to make it 
ready for sleeping. I had visions of a hard night, but after 
a little figuring, and with the help of two men who I thought 
were a couple of old salts, but who I found out afterwards 
had only been in camp a few weeks, I managed to get it 
swung fairly well. I must say, however, that a liammock is 
not the most comfortable place in the Avorld to sleep, until 
you have learned how. It is wonderful how quickly one gets 

(27) 



28 CHARLES B. BOWDEN, JR. 



used to it. ]^y the third night I was sh^epino- like a toj) and 
liked it even better than a bed. 

In my company all were rookies, so eacli one was about 
as jJi'eeu as the next one, and I guess we all looked it. 

The next day we were taken on the drill field and given 
our first lesson in Army drill (the Navy uses the Armj^ drill 
throughout), and I said to myself then: ^'This is going to be 
some life." 

In the afternoon classes were held in everything that a 
gob is supposed to know, which I think must number about 
five thousand. On Thursday afternoon we were given cutter 
practice. A cutter is a thirty-foot rowboat maimed by twelve 
men. The oars used on a cutter are sixteen feet long, and 
when you have pulled on one of these for a few^ hours you 
think you have done enough work to last the rest of the week, 
to say nothing of the blisters j^on get on your hands for the 
first two or three trips. While I am on the subject I will 
mention the fact that this was the largest boat I was on while 
in the service, except the ferry boat which brought me across 
the Delaware on my trips home on liberty. 

After a month or so of this life and my detention was 
up, I was elected to mess duty, otherwise known as a mess- 
hound. This is considered about the worst job in the whole 
outfit. Anyway, I didn't run into anything quite so bad. All 
a mess-hound has to do is get up at five-thirty and get the 
mess hall ready for morning chow. After that is over he 
cleans tlie silver, scrubs the tables and floor and cleans up 
in general for the morning inspection. 

From two until four-thirty he has off, to wash clothes 
or do any other personal jobs he wants to do. l^y eight-thirty 
in the evening he is through for the day, and then his time 
is his own until five-thirty again the next morning. As the 
saying goes, "It's a great life if you don't weaken, but who 
wants to be strong." 

After three weeks of this soft job I was transferred to a 
draft company. AVhile in this c(mipany we were really stand- 
ing by, waiting for orders to be sent to a boat, but, of course, 
as we coiddn't be idle these companies alternated with each 
other doing guard for a week, work for a week and drill for 



CHARLES B. BOWDEN, JR. 29 

a week, but I never received my orders. The company on 
work kept the camp clean, hauled all the coal and provided 
orderlies for all of the officers. 

The guard company's duty was to make tlie camp a safe 
place to live in, and also to see to it that no one went on 
liberty except when it was granted to them. 

S])eaking of liberty, that is the most important matter 
ill a gob's life. The majority are worrjnng all week if they 
ai'e going to get their forty-eight over the week end, and the 
mimite they put their foot in Camp again on Monday morn- 
ing they start right in worrying again, and I guess I Avill 
have to admit that I was one of the majority. 

A few days before the Armistice was signed I was given 
the job of storekeeper in the clothing and small stores, and 
fi'oni then until I was released I led the life of Riley. The 
store was located in the detention camp, where the rookies 
were kept during their detention, and, of course, on the sign- 
ing of the Armistice all recruiting stopped, and all we had 
to do was to see that no one walked off with the store. 

There were four of us altogether, and we all slept in the 
loft over the store. Our usual time for arising in the morn- 
ing was nine-thirty, but I will say that we Avere all known 
to oversleep ourselves on several occasions, but, as luck Avould 
have it, none of us were ever caught in the act. A very fuiniy 
thing happened one rainy morning. It was nearlj^ eleven 
o'clock and one of the fellows (I will call him Smith) was 
just rolling out of bed when in walked the Paymaster to look 
over the stores. It happened that both he and I had rain- 
coats just about alike, and as he came in the rear door he 
threw his coat on one of the counters and then walked to 
the front. One of us gave Smith the high sign; he jumped 
into his clothes, slid down the ladder and out of the back 
dooi'. As we supposed he would do, the Paj^master looked 
all around, and, not seeing Smith, he asked me where he was. 
I replied by saying, "He has gone over to the main camp, 
sir." Just at that moment Smith walked in the front door, 
of course, liaving been out only a very few minutes. 

The Paymaster looked him over and then, as a little smile 
crept over his face, he said, "Smith, as I am going back to 



30 CHARLES B. BOWDEN, JR. 

the main camp myself noAV, I will have to trouble 3^011 for my 
raincoat." Smith, in his hurry, had picked up the Pay- 
master's coat, thinking it was mine. From that day on he 
was considered a fine fellow by all of us, £ts that was all he 
said. If he had been an Ensign there is no doubt but what 
Smith would have gone before the mast for a shot, and would 
probably have had a few hours' extra duty to work off on 
the coal pile. The expression, ^'being sent up for a shot," 
means that you have been reported for breaking some regula- 
tion and 3^ou have to go before the Executive Officer to receive 
your punishment, which is generally extra duty. 

Our usual occupation during our leisure hours, which was 
just about all of the time, was cards, but sometimes, to break 
the monotony, we would resort to doing fancy work, such as 
making covers and scarfs out of canvas. This sort of work 
seems to be a peculiarity of the Navy, and nearly every one 
learns it before he has been in very long. AVhen you say 
fancy work every one thinks of it as a girl's occupation, but 
the kind done in the Navy consists of pulling certain threads 
out of the canvas to work your design and then tying hun- 
dreds of knots, and, by the time you are finished, your hands 
look almost as if you had had 3^our first lesson in the cutters. 
But, of course, as you aren't forced to do it, you forget all 
about 3^our hands, and before you know it you are starting 
in on another jiiece. Work is only hard, especially in the 
Navy, when some one tells you you have to do it. 

On February 11, 1919, I was released from active duty 
and proceeded again to my home, thus ending my naval career. 

Charles B. Bowden, Jr. 




PHOTO BY BACHRAC;-! 




X 



MARK F. COSTELLO 

UNLISTED in the Engineers' branch of the United 
States Regular Army, June 13, 1918, at Fort Slocuni, 
N. Y. Stationed at the Fort for a week, then sent 
to Camp Humphries, Va., for training. I was placed 
in Company K, 3d Pro v. Reg., with all the other rookies, be- 
ing one myself at the time. After two weeks of hard work 
and drilling I was transferred to Company A, 1st Prov. Reg., 
for the final training before going to an overseas company. It 
was here that I got my experience with a gun, learned how to 
dig trenches and all the present war methods. 

On July 10th I was sent to a place called Belvoir, Va., a 
branch of Camp Humphries, and for nearly seven weeks we 
drilled eight hours a day. 

On July 19 til orders came for us to sail, but as we had 
a little hard luck in getting our equipment we were not ready, 
and so we were out of luck. The fellows were sure disap- 
pointed, but we stuck it out, and on August 26th an order 
came, and that afternoon we got the train for Hoboken, N. J. 

On August 31st set sail for France on the "Great North- 
ern." The weather was favorable for the first few days, but 
on the 4th of September a storm arose as we were nearing the 
submarine zone, and that night we thought the ship was going 
to see its finish. Luck was with us that night and everything 
went right. Tlie next day the ocean looked like a plate of 
glass. 

We landed in Brest, France, on Sunday afternoon, Sep- 
tember Otli, and I was sure glad to i)ut my feet on dry land 
once again. 

We marched in full pack four miles to an old brick bar- 
racks on the outskirts of Brest and there we pitched camp. 
It was a clear afternoon and rather cool. We each had a 

(31) 



32 MARK F. COSTELLO 



blanket and our overcoat, and they were our beds for eiglit 
days, or nights, wliichever you got a chance to sleep in. 

We worked at night and every other day we unloaded 
sliips. Orders came about the 14th of September to move 
toward the front, and I never saw such a happy crowd of 
fellows than our companj^ was when the time came, so we 
bade farewell to old Brest and Napoleon Barracks, where we 
were quartered, and got aboard a freight train. The next 
morning at daybreak we had traveling rations for three days, 
but on the third daj^ we were only half way to the front and 
ran out of rations. The reason we were so long getting there 
was on account of the congestion on the main railroad, be- 
tween Brest and Paris and the St. Mihiel front. 

The St. Mihiel drive had just started and they were rush- 
ing troops straight through, so we had to take a round-about 
way and we were five days and five nights traveling. Our 
first stop was Tours, the S. 0. S. Headquarters. A¥e spent 
about ten hours there and then went to Nevers, which is tlie 
headquarters of the American Railways in France. 

We received rations for two more da3^s, which consisted of 
cold beams, tomatoes and bread. That was our supper, din- 
ner and breakfast for some time. 

After leaving Nevers, we went to Dijon, which is a very 
old manufacturing city in France. From Dijon we proceeded 
to Neuchateau, which was G. H. Q. at first, but when it be- 
came too hot there Gen. Pershing and his staff moved back 
to Chaumont. When we arrived in Neuchateau, it was early 
on a Sunday morning. The night before, there had been an 
air raid and things were stirred up a little. There were over 
forty or fifty-five planes doing police work. It was there that 
I got my first view of destruction of the war, and it was 
strange to see so many planes fiying about. It looked like an 
air battle at first. 

We left at noon and went to Goundi'ecourt, whicli at tliat 
time was about 25 miles from tlie front. We then liiked 
about two miles to a town called Abainville. It was here 
that we made our head(juarters. We worked at night havding 
ammunition and supplies up to the front and kept advancing 
with the trooj)s, always about ten to twelve miles beliind tlie 



MARK F. COSTELLO 



33 



front lines, but a short distance behind the heavy artillery. 
We passed the St. Mihiel sector and advanced to the Argonne. 
It sure was hot for about two weeks and we didn't know what 
minute our time was about due, so all we could do was work 
and wait. Our company was lucky and we didn't lose a man, 
although there were a great number who were sick and weary 
after the fighting* was over, and we came to a final stop about 
sixteen miles west of Metz. All there was to do was wait and 
see what was coming next. At G. II. Q. they were planning 




Farmhouse in Which Germans Made a "Stand" — Captured 

by Americans Near Bourches — Chateau Thierry 

Fight June, 1918. 

the biggest battle of the war, and as far as we could under- 
stand we were to take an active part in the drive on ]\letz, 
which was to open on the 13tli of November, but the Armis- 
tice being signed on the 11th, the drive was never carried out. 
It was lucky for both armies, for there sure would have been 
some dead in a week. 

After the Armistice was signed we moved back to Abain- 
ville and repaired the narrow-gauge engines, both the Ameri- 
can and the captured German ones. We did this about four 
months, and I s'ot a chance to s?o to the American E. F. Uni- 



34 MARK F. COSTELLO 



vorsity at I^eaune. I took a course in commercial art for about 
throe mouths aud it sure was a great rest. 

Orders came about the 5th of May for me to join my com- 
pany, as we were booked to go home. As my company was 
moving", I didn't know where to start to find them, and tliat 
just suited me, as I had not seen as much of France as I liked 
to, so I tool^ full advantage of the chance and spent over three 
weeks touring France. I saw most of the biggest cities. I 
also visited Paris twice, three days on one stop and two days 
on another, and sure was glad to see the great city that I 
had heard so much about. I must add this, if a fellow that 
had the opportunity to get to the other side of the pond and 
didn't see Paris, he missed half of the trip, for it sure is a 
great city. 

I joined my company in Le Mans and spent about a week 
around the camp, and we went to the port of our old city, 
Brest. 

We were in this camp at Brest for a week or so, and we 
got orders that we were going home the next day. 

You should have seen the fellows that night; they nearly 
went mad with joy. The next day we packed up and marched 
down to the boat and boarded the "good ship" U. S. T. "Great 
Northern," the same ship that took us over, and we knew it 
would not be long before seeing "God's Country." That after- 
noon we pulled out of dock ; the Army and Navy bands were 
l)laying homeward bound, and I am here to tell you it was a 
wonderful sound, much greater than you could hear in some- 
one's parlor on the piano. We had a good trip back, pleasant 
weather and we were only six days on the water. 

We landed in Hoboken, N. J., about the 22d of June and 
a "welcome party" met us on the river and played "Home, 
Sweet Home." 

T was then sent to Camp Merritt and our company was 
s|)lit the next day, so I bid "farewell" to my old friends and 
the next day was sent to Camp Dix. After spending 24 hours 
in Camp Dix we lined up for our discluirges, and believe me, 
F sure was glad to get back in good old Philadelphia once more. 

Mark F. Costei.lo. 





%2-^n-^^je^ 1^ ' ~(^^i^.^::^t^ 



GEORGE W. COULTER 



I OR some time after war was declared I had the inclina- 
tion and desire to do something for ray nation in its 

fg^m crisis. The qnestion of what I could do best and 
what branch of the service would appeal raost to me 

was a matter of long and serious thought. 

However, being in the printing profession, I thought per- 
haps I could render my best service as a printer in the Navy. 

Time lagged on and patriotism was increasing with the 
daily reports from the field of activities. 

On ]\Iarch 21, 1918, when the great German drive began 
and the hordes of Ilunnish detachments captured St. Quentin 
and tlien Noyan, and later Montdidier aiul Albert, my ire 
was at its height and my determination to join the colors 
was an established thought. 

On April 15, 1918, my chance came. "Humanity" seemed 
to call, and the Medical Corps of the Army needed men in 
practically every department. So I enlisted immediately and 
left Philadelphia on the morning of April 19th with orders 
to proceed to Camp Lee, Virginia, which is three miles from 
the ''cockade" city of Petersburg. 

Upon my arrival at the Base Hospital at Camp Lee, I was 
assigned to the Eye Clinic. In this department many thou- 
sands of men were examined and treated for their eyes, and 
it was here that I had the good fortune of securing such 
valuable knowledge that later on was to play a big part in 
my duties "over there." 

Camp Lee, like all the Southern Camps, was a sandy strip 
of inland, and during "sandstorms" many raen were seeking 
relief from the clinic personnel. I guess possibly that it 

(35) 



36 GEORGE W. COULTER 

became second nature to me to remove little grains of sand 
from the eyes of training doughboys. 

After seven months in this cantonment I was advised that 
a request from General Pershing for experienced eye clinicians 
was received by the Surgeon General's office at Washington, 
so I immediately placed my application with proper author- 
ities for a transfer. Up until this time no effort had been 
made on the part of our superior officers to send us "over- 
seas" as a unit, so I made up my mind that I would try my 
luck and play the game another way. 

I was rewarded. My orders came and on October 20tli, 
just after the "flu" epidemic, I left for Camp Crane, which 
was at Allentown, Pa. 

Once again in Pennsylvania, I felt rather "homelike," but 
my ardor to go across did not diminish with the privilege of 
resting in my own home State. 

On November 11, 1918, (Armistice Day), the little city 
of Allentown was celebrating in all its glory and I was in a 
hopeless quandry trying to fathom the question of whether 
or not I was ever going to "get over." About that time, much 
to my surprise, the order came to "pack up" for Camp Mer- 
rit, which meant something would surely happen yet. 

After reaching Camp Merrit, I learned that in an hour 
or two we would be brigaded with several other units and 
would sail. To say I was happy is placing it mildly. 

We sailed from IToboken on November 12, 1918, on oJie 
of the interned German ships, and the trip over was indeed 
an enjoyable one. 

Upon our arrival at Liverpool we were at once dispatched 
to a British Rest Camp at Winchester. The ride consumed 
about 10 hours. The camp was not at all like the ones in 
"Dixie." No pretty girls around to give you candy or 
cigarettes. But still I was nearing the "big show" and these 



GEORGE W. COULTER 



37 



petty thoughts were only entertained for a moment and then 
banished. However, the Britisli camp cannot compare with 
those of the "Yanks." 

On November 22, 1918, I arrived at Le Havre, havinoj 
sailed from Southampton over the English (Channel. 

This was my first sight of France. Thrill after thrill 
went through me. I was at the very gates of the greatest 
conflict the world had ever known. I spent Thanksgiving 
Day at Le Llavre, and I can well remember how we all wished 
that we could have been in old Philadelphia. However, the 




Porte du St. Cloud— (One of the Gates of Paris) 

day was spent in quiet and our minds were soon thinking of 
the following day when we would arrive in l^aris. 

As was expected, we reached the French metropolis and 
were assigned to a permanent camp just beyond the big city 
limits. 

For seven months I was assigned to the Eye Clinic, and 
it was here that the work of fitting artificial eyes was done. 
This was the specialty of the unit and they did their work 
wonderfully well. I can recall the many cases as they would 
come in and out. Many were pathetic. A number of tlu; 
cases bore that great American spirit of grit. All of them 



38 GEORGE W. COULTER 



were brave to the core and America must be proud of these 
wounded lieroes. 

Quite often I would obtain permission to go into Paris. 
It was just as I had pictured it. Long, spacious boidevards 
and magnificent public buildings. Hospitality was at its 
height and one would hardly know he was in a foreign city 
as he would rub shoulders with American doughboys so fre- 
quently. It is indeed a wonderful city. The women are 
noted for their beauty and this is true to tradition, but frankly 
I would much rather select mine from the good old Quaker 
City stock. 

The days went on and division after division was leaving 
Brest for the United States, and naturally we were looking 
forward to our turn with much interest. 

These glad tidings came on June IG, 1919, and in a few 
days we left Paris for St. Nazaire, where we embarked for 
our homeward journey. It was a happy day. As we left 
the pale, gray line of France in the background we all felt 
that we had saved the future of its legions, and as it vanished 
from sight we remembered Lafayette and his aid in the ( ^olo- 
nial days, and felt that we at least had repaid our debt. 

We landed at Newport News, Va., on July 12, 1919, and 
were at once dispatched to Camp Dix, N. J., for muster (mt. 
This came on July 22, 1919. 

J\ly part in the victory was little. My power in the great 
strength of our army Avas nothing. But my heart was gay in 
the jubilation of a thought that I had gone, T had con(iuered, 
and I had returned. 

I thank my God, that I am an American, that I can live 
in the great future to come, and cope with the great ques- 
tions of good government that are bomul to come, and T will 
attribute my strength and quick decision to my detei'inination 
to take arms against a foe and defend my nation against all 
odds. I am a better man foi* the ordeal. 

George W. Coulter. 



HAMPDEN H. DASHIELL 



IN tlie 15111 of October, 1918, I was inducted into tlie 
^^ S. A. T. C. at Washington and Lee University, Lex- 
^L^l ington, Va., wliicli was the beginning of a short sen- 
tence under the rules and regulations of ''Uncle Sam." 
Up early in the morning, eat, drill, go to classes; eat and 
drill again, with another meal later on, followed by a two- 
hour period for study, was about what happened, aiul when 
it was over for the day few argued against wrapping up in 
their blankets. 

It was "over and over," with several touches of better 
and worse, until the morning of December 12th, when they 
discharged me — and was I willing? Yes, sir. 

Hampden H. Dashiell. 




(39) 




^:^V^u^ /^^aw^^, 




o 



ALEXANDER H. DAVISSON, JR. 

N Jnly 15, 1917, I answered the call of our President, 
that all National Guard units that had been in serv- 
ice on the Mexican border be mustered into service. 
We reported at the armory of the 6th Regiment N. (1. 
of Penna., and were mustered into Federal service. We were 
then ordered into a camp in Lansdowne to await orders send- 
ing us to our Southern camp, and to try and fill the organi- 
zation up to full strength. 

On September 4th, I was sent to Fort Sill, Okla., for train- 
ing in aerial observation, and after three months of training 
and flying, it was announced that no observers were to be 
accepted unless twenty-four years of age. I was therefore 
ordered to report back to my outfit, now the 111th Infantry, 
at Camp Hancock, Augusta, Ga. 

As a Sergeant, commanding a platoon at Camp Hancock, 
I took part in the intensive training that was to prepare us 
for service on the other side. With instructions received from 
English and French officers we were expected to learn there 
the rudiments of warfare as it was carried on in Europe. 

On the 24th of April I was sent in advance of the division 
as one of the men selected to go to France for advanced train- 
ing. I left New York on April 30th and arrived in France 
at St. Nazaire, the 12th of May. We reached Langres, the 
town that was the seat of all American schools at that time, 
and I was assigned to a course in automatic rifles, pistols and 

(41) 



42 



ALEXANDER H. DAVISSON, JR. 



grenades. After four weeks of hard work here we rejoined 
onr units at their training area near St. Denis, not far from 
Paris. 

About the middle of June we moved up to a small town, 
south of the Marne, where we could easily be called upon and 
rushed into position if needed. Here we continued our train- 
ing, and in a week several of the battalions were assigned to 
duty with French units across the IMarne. Our battalion was 
given this same dut.y, and it was then that we had our intro- 





Cathedral at Reims 



Shell Hole in the Tower of 
Cathedral 



dnction to shell fire and the joys of living in suppoi't trenches, 
where we were subjected to shell fire but had no way of 
retaliating. 

July ir)th saw the 2cSth Division doing all it conld to check 
the Germans in the second battle of the Marne, and from that 
date on we were constantly on the move from one place to 
another and always pushing the Germans back. With the 
various small towns, but memories now, they were a lot to 
us then, Courmont, Fere-en-Tardenois, Jaulgonne, and on up 



ALEXANDER H. DAVISSON, JR. 43 



to Fisnios, on the Veslc. It soimds easy, but wo saw lots of 
action, losses, liardsliips and tlie thinning of oiii' ranks. 

September r)tli we were in the front lines along the south 
of the Vesle the day the Germans retreated to the heights in 
theii' rear, and after pushing them for two more days we were 
relieved by French troops and sent to the rear. T\uh was the 
first time in sixty-five days that we were not snbjcutt to shell 
fire and casualties du(^ to it. Marching back to Epernay, 
south of the Marne, we were loaded into trucks and taken for 
an all night ride, arriving at a little village not far from Rar- 
le-I)uc. TTere we spent a few days of absolute bliss, far from 
the lines. 

On September 15th I was sent to the Officers' Candidates 
School at Tjangres, and for six weeks studied and worked that 
T might be sufficieiitly trained to lead other men in action, 
it was here that I found my actual experi(Mice in the lines, 
and the fact that I had command of men as a platoon sergeant 
was of great value to me, and on October 1^1 st T was commis- 
sioned 2d Tjieutenant of infantry. 

With several other newly made officers T was assigned to 
the r)8th Infantry of the 4th Division. We joined them at 
the village of Gironville, northwest of Toul, and were i)re- 
paring to march u|> into the lines to go into action again when 
that fateful day, the 11th of November, reached us and 
stopped further action. Naturally, wt. were all very happy, 
but at that time did not know if this Armistice would be 
lasting or only a suspension of hostilities, so we kept in readi- 
ness for any orders that rnight be given. 

About November 2()th we started to march north into 
(lermany, to take our part in the Army of Occupation, and 
were given the town of (^oblentz as our sector to guard. We 
were (juit(^ pleased, for this was tlu^ largest of th(; American 
occupied towns and the bi-idgehead of the American forces. 



44 ALEXANDER H. DAVISSON, JR. 

Our work consisted of guard duty, controlling German trad- 
ing, and taking over certain war material to be given up by 
the terms of the Armistice. After seven months of this duty 
the glad word was received that we were to be relieved, and 
on the 23d of July we left for home by way of Brest. 

I arrived in New York the 1st of August and was dis- 
charged at Camp Dix the 22d of that month. 

The fifteen months abroad, with the many experiences that 
fell to my lot, were something that I would not care to go 
through again, but at the same time I feel that T would not 
have missed it for anything. 

Alexander H. Davisson, Jr. 





PHOTO BY 8ACHRACH 



^X a ^i 




JOHN A. DULANTY 



OlN July 11, 1918, I enlisted in the Marine Corps, but 
later was turned down because I was under weight. 

^lim I then enlisted, October 20, 1918, in the Motor 
Transport Corps, and was at once sent to Camp John- 
ston, Jacksonville, Fla., for training. I was in camp only a 
few weeks when, on November 11, 1918, the Armistice was 
signed. It was after this that my work really began. 

On December 10th, six hundred men in my company were 
sent to Camp Hill, Newport News, Va., and it was shortly 
after we landed at Camp Hill that it was rumored we were 
going to France to relieve the men already over there. How- 
ever, in about a week we were sent to different camps, and I, 
along with about two hundred other men, was sent to the 
Army supply base at Norfolk, Va. We stayed there for a 
month, driving motor trucks from early morning till late at 
night. 

I was later transferred, with about fifty other men, to a 
place called "Pig Point," and it surely was some point, being 
about twenty-five miles from Norfolk, the nearest trolley line 
being five miles from camp. It was a long five miles of mud 
through which to travel and it had to be done in order to get 
to town. There was a company of colored troops there, quite 
a few of whom wore gold chevrons on their sleeves, and they 
claimed that "Pig Point" was worse than France, as they 
weren't able to go home, and were allowed to go in town only 
one night in a week. 

The largest powder warehouses in the world were supposed 
to be at Pig Point, there being one hundred T.N.T. houses, 
and each house had stored in it about ten times as much 

(45) 



46 JOHN A. DULANTY 



powder as it would take to blow up an ordinary city. This is 
entirely independent of the otiier explosive powders that were 
stored there. 

On February 10th, another man and myself were sent to 
a detachment of our company at an Engineer Depot right 
outside of Norfolk, at a place called Lambes Point. It was 
there that I was detailed to operate a Hudson Touring car 
belonging to a Major whom I drove around. Of course, this 
work was much more agreeable than driving trucks. 

On March 26th, I was appointed Corporal, and on April 
5th, General March inspected our camp, and I had the plea- 
sure, as well as the honor, of driving his car around the camp. 

On May 26, 1919, I was discharged from the service and 
am glad that I had the opportunity of serving my country. 

John A. Dulanty. 





PHOTO BY BACHRACH 



J CL\rsKSl^ J^~7k!am^iM^ 



JAMES DANIEL 



IN June 24, 1018, I was inducted into the service of the 
United States Army and left tlie same day for Spar- 
Wi^^ tansburg', S. C. This trip was for me tlie worst battle 
of my entire military career. We rode in an 1832 
model coach of the Atchison, Topeka and Santa Fe Railroad, 
New Mexico, and we were kept busy dodging shoes, hats, bot- 
tles, and various other items, which were flying through the 
train. There was absolutely no rest for us until we reached 
Spartansburg early on the morning of June 26th. 

I was assigned to the 31st Pioneer Infantry, Co. B, and 
after the initiation we started to drill, but this continued for 
a short time only, so far as I was concerned, for, unfortunately, 
I did not ])ass the physical examination, being rejected on 
account of flat feet. I was discharged from the service on 
July 1, 1918. 

Shortly after I was discharged, it became possible foi* 
limited service men to enlist, and I took advantage of the 
opportunity and re-entered the service on September 11, 1918, 
in the Medical Supply Department, in New York City. I was 
assigned to the l^urchasing Department, where my knowledge 
of dry goods stood me in good stead. Such items as sheets, 
pillow cases, towels, blankets, etc., were on my purchasing 
list. 

On November 11th, I was awakened, at 5 A. M., by the 
whistles, bells, etc., and knew, then, that the great war was 
over, and I put on my dress uniform, expecting to celebrate 
the victory. 

However, we all went to the office (not to work), as there 
was too much excitement and celebrating going on for any 

(47) 



48 JAMES DANIEL 



work to be accomplished that day. Our Colonel had already 
sent out notice that we would be at liberty at 12 o'clock noon. 
You can imagine my feelings when at 11.30 a guard list was 
put up on the Bulletin Board and I was among the chosen for 
guard duty that night. 

I believe I can honestly say that it was the worst niglit 
one could be on guard duty in New York City, as everyone 
was out celebrating, and we were out of it all. 

Shortly after November 11th, word came from Washing- 
ton to stop buying supplies and our work came to a stand- 
still, and it was just a question of days when we would be 
discharged. 

My discharge came through on December 14, 1918, and 
thus ended my short military career in the U. S. Army. 



James Daniel. 





PHOTO BY BACHRACH 



I 



HAROLD R. DITMARS 

ENLISTED in Philadelphia, June 6, 1918, and reported 
at Cape May for training July 24, 1918, and there I 
pined until February 10, 1919, when they let me out 
on indefinite leave. It was more of a holiday for me 

than anything else, although I hardly joined up in a holiday 

frame of mind. 

The most trying period was after the armistice was 
signed when we were all wondering when they would let us 
go home. There was a fresh rumor every day. Probably the 
thing I appreciated most at Cape May was the opportunity 
to meet chaps from all over the country and in finding how 
generally decent they all were. 

When I was finally released I had managed to arrive at 
the dignity of a rating as Q. M. 3d, so I had evidently learned 
something during my six months in camp. 

Harold R. DitmArs. 




(49) 




^*^% 




PHOTO BY WEISEISEN 




'-^ 





X 



GEORGE W. ELLIS 

WAS inducted into the United States Army on Octo- 
ber 4, 1917, and it was then that my troubles and 
pleasures began. 

A special train from North Philadeli)hia Station 
took us to Camp J\Ieade, Md., about 18 miles from Baltimore 
and 40 miles from Washington, D. C. 

The trip down to camp had no thrills attached to it, and 
when we were side-tracked and the word came for us to 
vacate the train my thought was that we must have landed 
in some unknown desert. 

With sand ankle deep we walked one mile and came to a 
few new barracks, and at one of these we were sorted out, 
so many men going to each. 

The first few days were spent in getting equipment and 
other minor details, and then the farm lands had to be 
cleared in order to make a drill field, and we put in our next 
two weeks with a little drilling and pulling weeds. 

After one month the army sj^stem was running smoothly 
and we had our regular drill hours, and life wasn't quite 
so bad. 

New men were coming to the camp daily and on Novem- 
ber 6, 1917, we received 106 men, which made up a full com- 
pany of 250 men. As soon as the division was filled to its 
quota the news of the day was that we would go overseas 
in a month. Rumors are very plentiful in the army and T 
have heard quite a few and helped to pass them along. 

Thanksgiving Day was near at hand and our talk about 
getting home for a few days was about all you could hear in 
any gathering and on the drill field. 

Some received passes or leave of absence, but I had better 
thoughts and uses for a few days at Christmas time and was 
satisfied to wait until then. Things looked fine for us until 

(51) 



52 GEORGE W. ELLIS 



the 18th day of December, when one of our men went on the 
sick list at 5.30 P. M., and at 6.30 P. M. we were quarantined 
for eighteen days and our Christmas hopes shot to pieces, 
all because he had a few pimples on his face and the doctor 
diagnosed the case as measles. Christmas came and we had 
a great time with all the measles. A regular turke}^ dinner 
with music went big with us in our own mess hall, which we 
decorated with holly and other greens. In the evening we 
had a minstrel show and smoker. 

Being quarantined meant that we could not enter any 
building except our own, and yet we could drill with men 
of other companies on the field. We had three cases of 
measles that kept us in quarantine 56 days, and if we had 
not doctored and cured ourselves we would still be under 
quarantine. 

Spring found us still at Camp Meade and all we wanted 
was a chance to get ''over," which did not present itself until 
July 7, 1918. 

We left Camp Meade on Sunday evening, July 7th, at 
7.30, after a general house cleaning, and the final drive was 
to see the fellows kiss their sweethearts good-bye, which left 
many a tear on the sands of Camp Meade. The Captain then 
said "fall in," and the boys found it hard to keep their eyes 
to the front while at "attention," for their interests were 
still among those they had kissed good-bye, who were still 
standing back of them. Then after "right by squads" and 
"column left" we were hiked as a battalion to the station at 
Disney, all singing "Where do we go from here." 

We then entrained and sped along our wa}^ through Phila- 
delphia to Hoboken, and as we faced the sun next morning 
we were headed toward the gang plank, which led us aboard 
the transport "Agamemnon," which was the old German liner 
"Kaiser Wilhelm II." 

We stayed in port until 6 P. M., Tuesday, July 9th, which 
time we used in familiarizing ourselves with the compartments 
of the boat. 

I was fortunate enough in landing a job right off the bat, 
fortunately not in mopping up the deck or doing K. P., but 
seeing that no one spit on the deck, or spilled his breakfast 



GEORGE W. ELLIS 53 



over the rail, and, after all matches were collected, to arrest 
all men striking matches after dark or having matches in 
their possession, thus depriving many fellows from a smoke, 
and at night chasing everybody but the guard down fifteen 
or twenty feet below the surface of the water to their smelly 
compartments, where fresh air was as scarce as good-looking 
girls in France. At each corner and passage way you would 
find a Company "G" doughboy standing with a rifle in his 
hands and telling the fellows either to "keep moving" or 
"you can't get in here." In other words, I was doing guard 
duty, which was the best job on the boat, as we were all 
allowed privileges which the others did not have. 

About sunset we bid the Statue of Liberty and the At- 
lantic coast good-bye; then our eyes turned eastward, and 
until 3 P. M., July 10th, the only sights we had beside the 
incidents occurring on the boat, which were numerous, were 
the sky and sea, and the convoy which we were in, and which 
consisted of the "France," "America," "Mt. Vernon," "Ari- 
zabo," and our own ship, the "Agamemnon," and numerous 
destroyers. 

To our misfortune, one night we ran into one of our own 
oil tankers on its way back, which we cut in two and sunk 
with about two-thirds of the crew. 

After about a week at sea we were as alert for land as 
Christopher Columbus' sailors were, and we saw about the 
same signs of land. Finally we saw some high rocks, which 
we**were told were along the coast of Brittany. We finally 
pulled into the harbor at Brest. As we could not get trans- 
portation to the shore we spent another night on the boat, 
but not in the dark, as on other nights, as we were now safe. 
The next morning in a drizzling rain we were transported 
to the shore, and each man, with his house and complete 
household furnishings on his back, started to hike to "some- 
where," which they told us was a "rest camp," but we have 
our own opinion of it. At this place some of the boys got 
their first taste of the famous "Vin Rouge" and "Vin Blanche." 



54 GEORGE W. ELLIS 



Fortunately we didn't spend much time at this place, and I 
think it was a good thing, for all we Yankees could under- 
stand was the children saying "cigarette for pap" or "penny, 
penny." 

About 2.30 Sunday morning, July 21st, we left camp to 
entrain for the training area, which was that famous place 
"somewhere in France" (Dardenay), and I might say here 
that all our moves from now on were made on Sundays, inci- 
dentally, and we hadn't had our shoes off since we left Camp 
Meade. About daybreak we arrived at the station and every 
one started to look around for our train, which was said to 
be on a siding, but we couldn't see anything that led us to 
believe that it was there. Finally we were told to entrain, 
and it was then that we got our first opinion of the French 
railroads, for when we left Camp Meade for the coast we 
travelled in excursion cars and everybody was knocking, but 
now we were put into little box cars, which looked like Steven- 
son's first train, and on the outside of each car we read 
"8 Chevaux or 40 Hommes" (8 horses or 40 men). So from 
now on we had it knocked into us that we were constantly 
going from bad to worse, until we arrived at the front, which 
was just what Sherman said it was. 

"Toot," "toot," we're off. Well, we started and we 
halted, and we went and we stopped, and we backed and 
we went, and we dined on corned bill and hard tack on our 
first tour of France, until July 24th, which took us through 
the cities of Rennes, Laval, Le Mans, Tours, Dijon and Is-sur- 
tille (here we were served with coffee and bread by the Red 
Cross) to Vaux-sous-Aubigny. Every one was saying, "So 
this is sunny France, but where is the sun," for up to this 
time it was rain, rain, rain. Here we detrained and learned 
a new word in the English language when we heard the Cap- 
tain say, "Fall in, from here we hike to our billets," for now 
it had changed from barracks to billets, which we found to 
be stables, sheds, etc. So after finding our billets we were 
given the remainder of the week to clean up and feed up( ?). 
In order to do the latter the first thing the boys did was to 
skirmish the town for eggs, milk, chocolate, etc., in wliich 
they found quite a resistance on accouiit of not being able 



GEORGE W. ELLIS 



55 



to parlez vous Francais, but fiiiall}^ we mastered such words 
as aeufs, lait, compre, oui, finis, and we were able to get a 
few of the necessities of life. Of course, we were informed 
that we Avere not to harm or trespass on private property, 
but when we saw sometliing over the fence that appealed to 
our taste, we used to practice some of the often heard of 
"Niglit raids," and when the French found certain articles 
missing' all we could understand was "Americaine," and, if 
we tried to persuade our comrades from doing such things, 
saying it was contrary to orders, they simply replied, "If you 
think I haven't the nerve to go over the fence, how do you 
think I'll ever go over the top?" 




Destruction Wrought by German Shells 
at Reims, 

After several weeks of hard training and having been 
told to salvage our personal property, we realized that we 
would soon depart for the front, where all were anxious to 
go, so finally again on a Sunday morning, September 8th, 
bright and early, we heard that famous command, "Fall in," 
and found ourselves in rank with all our belongings and 
"boaueoup" rounds of ammunition. In other words, souvenirs 
for the Germans. Again we were off on one of those famous 
short hikes. After paddling through mud and rain for two 
days we found ourselves at the railhead of La Ferte. We 
were told not to pitch tents as the train was due any minute. 
It finally arrived the next day at noon. During our wait 
here there wasn't a dry spot large enough to sit down, so all 



56 GEORGE W. ELLIS 



we could do was to stand around, for we were all tired of 
walking. When the train finally did arrive, we found our- 
selves in the same old "Eight or Forties," and after receiving 
our rations, which were the usual army favorite corned bill 
and hard tack, we finally heard some one say "All in" and the 
thing moved. As usual it moved and stopped and moved and 
stopped until next morning at 10 A. M., when we were again 
told to detrain, which we would have rather not done at this 
time, as the rain was falling fast and the mud didn't appeal 
to us by any means. 

We then hiked through Bar-le-Duc to Tremont. Here 
we saw beaucoup (many) airships flying back and forth. We 
again staj^ed long enough to salvage further unnecessaries. 
From now on all our travels were at night as we were ap- 
proaching the front, and we had to try and puzzle Jerry and 
keep him guessing as to our moves. At Tremont we were 
very much surprised and displeased to learn that a truck 
train was waiting to load us up at nightfall to take us closer 
to the front, and we finally landed at a reserve camp near 
Blercourt. The chauffeurs of this train were Chinese from 
French Tndo-China, and their language was so different that 
we could not speak a word to them that they could under- 
stand, so when we detrained we tried to make them under- 
stand that we were not all ready, but they didn't compre and 
left with some of our equipment in their trucks. Now in 
order to get to our destination before daybreak we had a verj^ 
hard hike and finally landed in some shacks which the Frogs 
used for stables. Here we had the first vision of the front, 
not on the ground but in the air, for we could see the observa- 
tion balloons hovering over the front lines and air battles 
were frequent, for when one of Jerry's birds came over you 
could see them give him a warm reception, sometimes for many 
miles until he crossed the lines. When Jerrj^'s planes came 
over we were advised to keep under cover and stay indoors, 
but, as school boys, we were curious, and, instead of staying 
in, we would go out, but, believe me, later on we learned from 
experience to pull in our necks when Jerry planes appeared. 

Our stay here was short and again on a Sunday night 
we pulled out closer to the front, where we were in reserve, 



GEORGE W. ELLIS 57 



and, as opportunity presented itself, we were sent to the front- 
line trenches. The town of Donibasle, where we landed, was 
really our first sight of the ruins of war, for this town was 
nothing but walls and chimneys, with no civilian population 
whatever. After spending nearly two weeks here we saw our 
first dugouts, and some of the boys slept in them. We again 
salvaged everything except rations and toilet articles and 
loaded up with more German souvenirs — this included 
grenades and fireworks. We were then told that we were 
departing for what was known as a quiet sector for four 
years, and during the night hikes we saw scores of camou- 
flaged cannons along the line, and then we realized that it 
would not be very long now. 

Early in the night we landed at our positions, and at 
11.30 P. M. the "million dollar barrage" started which opened 
up the way for the great drives of September 26th. Of 
course we didn't know where we were going or what our duties 
were for that was all "inside dope," but we did know that 
at intervals of several minutes cannons were barking con- 
tinuously in back of us and on all sides, except the front (this 
was Jerry's side). Where these cannons were I don't know, 
but we could feel the jar of the ground, see the flash and 
feel the wave of heat caused by the discharge of the cannon, 
so you can imagine they were not ver}^ far away. It was a 
wonderful scene at first, with all the cannons along the whole 
front opened up, for it appeared that at times the skies were 
ablaze, but it was so continuous that we finally, being very 
tired, fell asleep and at dawn we got the final dope and were 
told that at the zero hour, which was 5.30, and which was 
close at hand, that we were going "over the top." 

At last that fateful hour arrived, and when we received 
the command "ball ammunition load," we still little realized 
that this meant real action, as we had often heard this com- 
mand at the target range. With the eagerness of the first 
day of hunting season we started out. At first, when we 
started over "No Man's Land," it was mostly curiosity, as 
we felt that there were no Boche there, for in the beginning 
we had been in support and the assaulting wave had already 
passed over this land, but we didn't go far, until from ex- 



58 GEORGE W. ELLIS 



perience, we found out that even though we were not in the 
front line, there was something for us to do, for after going 
some little time we had become familiar with the whizzing 
of artillery shells overheard. But soon we heard the whizzing 
of bullets past us, and a sound that was fainter than artil- 
lery, 3^et we recognized it as not being of our Enfield rifles. 
While we were questioning ourselves what it was we were 
informed by the officers that it was a sniper. Immediately 
all eyes turned in that direction, as we all were anxious to 
get the first glimpse of and the first shot at a Boche. Even 
though we were in the thickest of the forest, in the midst of 
"No Man's Land," there was no one to be seen, but still at 
intervals we were disturbed by these bullets and for the 
first time started to hug "Mother Earth" for safety. 

B}^ this time many of the boys started to send some of 
the American souvenirs in that direction at which they thought 
some Boche sniper might be located. After delajdng a little 
here, we were told that we would not allow him to hold us 
up any longer and we hurried on, leaving him in the rear, 
only to surrender later on after his retreat was cut off. 

The most encouraging thing to us was to see the prisoners 
come filing in during the first hours, headed toward the 
Regimental P. C. at Copinard, and also to see the first dead, 
which was a Boche. But we soon saw the results of the front 
when it became a steady stream of litter bearers, carrying 
the wounded to the rear and others walking. About 3 o'clock 
we, being held up for some reason or other, were assembled, 
and then ate our first meal of reserve rations, which we had 
been lugging all over France. Here, too, we got a first sight 
of tanks on a battlefield, about a score of them moving to 
the front to take some part in the battle. Up to this time we 
only occasionally saw shells explode. These were German shells 
and our shells were falling far ahead of us, and the crash 
of the first explosion I shall long remember, for hearing a 
crash and looking in that direction you could see a cloud of 
black smoke, earth and stones thrown high in the air. After 



GEORGE W. ELLIS 59 



going a little farther, we were held in an open field, and 
here about dusk we were told that we would stay for the 
night. 

Early in the night rain began to fall and continued all 
during our stay in this sector (to September 30th). In the 
morning we were lingering around here in the rain, each one 
asking the other what was holding us up, but we soon 
learned that the boys ahead of us were taking the town of 
]\rontfaucon, which was located on a high hill. But soon Jerry 
landed a few explosives in our midst, which caused us to 
scatter for safety and we were moved off to the left flank and 
held there. Curiosity began to cause us to wander aroTind 
through German trenches and dugouts, where a few of us 
collected our first souvenirs, but most of us were not looking 
for souvenirs, but comfort instead, and were picking up 
blankets, raincoats, gloves, socks and even changing shoes, 
for we were now beginning to feel the tiresome effects of war. 

Sometime, shortly after dinner, we were again put into 
a skirmish line and started forward until we were on top of 
a hill overlooking the village of Montfaucon. Here for sev- 
eral hours, in the afternoon, we were in full view of the 
battle, seeing the artillery shell the village and neighboring 
hills, and clouds of smoke arising whenever a hit was made. 
The main target was a high observation tower. We also could 
see the boys crouch up against a wall waiting their turn to go 
over the top, when the barrage was lifted, as few had yet passed 
beyond the village. Water was now the question staring us 
in the face, as we had been traveling approximately two days 
and nights on our first canteen of water. Many of the boys 
started drawing from shell holes, which was strictly for- 
bidden. Others, still obeying the rules, endured a ' while 
longer, but only yielded later. While being held up in sup- 
port here, we entered German dugouts, built a fire and just 
got ready to start supper when the command came to go for- 
ward again. Going about a hundred yards, we stayed hero 
until dark. We were then marched around the outside of the 
village to the other side to relieve the assaulting wave and 
take our places at the front line. Of course, we had to be 



60 GEORGE W. ELLIS 



very quiet or a German machine gun would open fire on us. 
After some difficulty in finding our position, we were told to 
dig in, which we did until morning. 

At daybreak we found ourselves in the front line and 
started out after the Boche. As most of the Germans were re- 
treating in front we found little resistance, except machine 
guns, and were not coming in range of the artillery. This 
morning we saw the first grave of an American soldier, al- 
though many had fallen before this. At about 10 o'clock we 
had our first taste of loss of life, when several of our boys 
were killed in our midst by two high explosives falling at 
several minutes interval. From now on we came across manj^ 
dead Americans and Germans. After this panic, and we were 
settled once again, we were led through one of the thickest 
parts of the forest, where we were constantly under German 
shell fire. In the evening they came pretty close to our heels 
and they gave us a warm reception with machine gun bullets 
and explosives. In fact, it was so warm that we had to fall 
back, and after a while, organizing with the aid of a number 
of large tanks, we charged the woods under heavy shell fire, 
chasing for some piece, taking a number of prisoners, killing 
others and seeing others make a hasty retreat in the distance. 
This night we spent in a steady downpour of rain under some 
bushes in an old trench, which was full of water. We were 
all wishing for the days when we could sleep in tlie good, 
old feather beds, and were kept busy putting on our gas 
masks, as we were constantly under shell fire. Other than tliis 
we had nothing to do. 

It was now becoming a regular job, starting out at a cer- 
tain hour in the morning and quitting at dusk, and starting 
again at night and quitting at a certain hour in the morning. 
We continued this way from day to day until again on a 
►Sunday morning we contiinicd our march toward Bei^lin, and, 



GEORGE W. ELLIS 



61 



while 3'()u folks rested during this day, in rockers and easy 
chairs, we hugged the shell holes frequently, for this seemed 
to be the worst day of all, for there were times when shells 
were falling all around us and still there was no one in sight. 
The German shells were flying all around us and we almost 
felt like one of the colored troops when he was asked what 
his thoughts were when the German barrage was falling back 
of him and on both sides, and our owti in front, he said : 
''AVell, I thought good-bye to this land, hello Pearly Gates." 
Even though we were fighting hard all day, we spent the night 
some short distance back of where we slept last night. Some- 
time during this night we had our first meal at the front, when 




French Chateau Held by Germans and Captured by 
Americans — Champagne Drive October, 1918 

we were led out to a kitchen and in the dark we helped our- 
selves, and between dirt and eats there wasn't much dif- 
ference. It all w^ent down just the same. 

Next morning for some reason or other we didn't go over 
the top, but were relieved late in the afternoon, and I am 
sure every one felt very much relieved when they turned their 
faces and marched westward, but to our sorrow we still had 
a few losses, until w^e reached our camping ground for the 
night, where we slept in shell holes for a few days. 

Next morning as we started out, everybody was asking, 
"Where do we go from here." After all day hiking, hungry 



62 GEORGE W. ELLIS 



and tired, we landed in the same bunks which we had left on 
the night of September 25th. Here we were greeted by those 
whose duties were to remain back, but it was not the same 
place, for there were threescore more familiar faces missing, 
some never to rejoin us again. After the next day and night 
here, we again started on a five-day hike, which was the hard- 
est ever, and we landed finally at "Rupt." After staying here 
two days, early Sunday night we started out, and after two 
nights of hiking, and camouflaging by day, we found our- 
selves on the much-noted St, Mihiel battle front, relieving 
the 26th Division, and later on the Frogs. 

Missing all action from October 1st to 31st, as the result 
of injuries received in action, the best I can say is that hos- 
pitals are wonderful inventions, as they separate human be- 
ings from shrapnel and bullets, and when one has any surplus 
arms and legs the surgeons see fit to remove them. 

For two weeks five of us American soldiers looked at 
each other and the walls and ceiling of a 9 x 12 room. We 
hailed from five different States, and when we would run out 
of conversation about the war we would do our best to knock 
each other about the State he came from, and I did my best 
and received a few points in favor of old Pennsylvania. 

The third week here I was allowed to walk around the 
hospital, but I felt that I was better off in bed as heat is one 
thing not known to the hotels used for hospitals in that town. 

On Monday of the fourth week, those of us that could 
walk were lined up in socks, pajamas, robes and slippers and 
walked one square for some regular clothes, as we thought, 
but we discovered that they had been in the possession of 
"cooties" long before we received them, and once again we 
were at home with our friends. 

Time became heavy on our hands and most of us thought 
that we would be better off back on the lines, so on October 
30th we were examined again, and some stayed and the rest 



GEORGE W. ELLIS 63 



of us looked forward to a nice soft or hard bed on old mother 
earth, just according- to the weather. 

This hospital was located in Yittel, about 30 miles from 
Toul, the great centre for a few big German drives, and ten 
miles from Vichy, the centre for polluted ( ?) water. 

The morning of October 31st, at 5.30 A. M., we waited 
for our side-door Pullman "Eight or Forty," when another 
Red Cross train came into town, and it had among its cargo 
six wounded German soldiers, three of whom could walk. 
We never expected these poor fellows to get to the hospital, 
only a hundred yards away, as we all looked for souvenirs, 
and the Germans did suffer for our liking. Caps were taken 
away and belts with the German insignia, "Gott Mit Uns," 
and coat buttons, pen knives or anything that looked good. 
One big fellow, from out West, was asking us to handle the 
poor fellows vnth care and not to hurt them, and after he 
managed to get about eight of us away he surely did ransack 
the Jerry of everything he had. Of course, the Kaiser's son 
of war did not like this treatment very much, but the big 
boy showed him a pistol that he had taken from a German 
on the lines and the Jerry moved right along with the rest. 

Again when w^e boarded the train we were singing, "Where 
do we go from here, boys." At 3 P. M. we stopped at a town 
named Merry, and we all got off to look for something to eat. 
The next half hour was spent trying to tell a mob of French 
people that we wanted to eat, and finally we found that there 
was an American camp in the town. The worst person in 
the world to approach is a Mess Sergeant, and we told the 
one at camp (when we finally found it) that we wanted to 
eat, and the best answer we received was, "Wait until 5.30"). 
Well, he took his life in his own hands when he said that, and 
the crowd told him what they thought of him, but we ate at 
5.30 .iust the same. We were in our coaches again at 6.30 
and all thought we had a merry time, but hoped never to see 
that place again. 

Bumping along the rails and trying to sleep, we finally 
came to a stop at Ts-sur-Tille. Once more everybody got out. 
but we were greeted by a nice lot of M. P.'s, and they escorted 



64 GEORGE W. ELLIS 



us to the eanip. After answering- one hundred or more ques- 
tions, we got a meal ticket, and, getting on the outside of a 
few eats, hit the hay on a nice wooden mattress, a terrible 
come down from the beds we left in the hospital. 

The next morning we attended "roll call" in the "bull 
pen," a lot one hundred yards square, with a fifteen-foot 
barbed-wire fence and a high stand in the centre, looking 
like a judge's stand at a "horse show." A leather-lunged bird 
called out names from the stand, and, when he called yours, 
you moved to the gate and stood in line, that meaning you 
would depart that day. 

At 5.30 P. M., November 1st, we left this camp for the 
railroad station, and when we arrived there the news that 
greeted us was fine. Train due at 2.30 A. M., so the M. P.'s 
decided to take us to the rest rooms — and they did. The 
rooms were lovely, with twelve easy chairs, pillows, curtains 
and everything comfortable. At the door some one told us 
to divide the seats among us. We went in 100 strong, look- 
ing for a seat or a place to lie down. Every hour aftei* 2 
o'clock we would put on our packs and carry all our belong- 
ings and start for the train, only to come back and wait some 
more. 

We finally got started at 7 A. M,, on the 2d of November, 
and rode all that day and half the next day, which was Sun- 
day. We found ourselves at St. Aignon, known to the Ameri- 
can Expeditionary Forces as "St. Agony." 

A short walk to camp brought us in front of a door of a 
large building, with a neat little sign, "The Mill." As soon 
as you enter the "Mill" your troubles start, and when you 
get out you could whip the German Army single-handed. 
Your life history is taken and you get everything new, and 
at the last stop you get 15 minutes to make a pack up and 
get out — that's all. 

The rules of the camp were then read off to you and after 
that you felt like a real prisoner instead of a soldier. If 
you stayed away from your barracks over 15 minutes you 
could get a job in the guard house. 

The finest lot of mud in France was placed in this camp 
and we enjoyed walking through it every da}^ News from 



GEORGE W. ELLIS 65 



the front was published on bulletin boards and it was there 
that we read of the German Committee coming over the lines 
to surrender to an armistice. Well, all I can say is that we 
had to stay here through it all. When the armistice was 
signed we still found ourselves there, and the following day 
we started on the trains once more. 

Two days' riding and one day of hiking brought me back 
with my own company, and I found only about ten men that 
I knew, the others had been either killed or wounded. 

The shacks we occupied were German and of course we 
had a nice mess to clean up. 

We left here on December 28th, after building walks, 
roads and other necessities to make life worth living. We 
arrived at the town of Issoncourt, and here we drilled and 
had an easy time until March 28th, and then another nice 
five-day hike through rain, snow and hail, which brought us 
to Trampot. 

We drilled at Trampot a week, when the French farmers 
did us a big favor by not letting us drill any more on their 
grounds. A month of easy life was great, and we then started 
preparing for home. 

After about one hundred inspections we finally were looked 
over by General Pershing and he surely did pick out a fine 
day of rain to look us over. 

We left Trampot on the 24th of April and hiked to Rimau- 
court, and from here to Nantes by train and then to Villeis, 
and from Villeis we hiked to Vallet, the most civilized French 
town we had been in during our journey. The town is 
about sixty miles from St. Nazaire, and the people treated 
us nicely while we spent our time in getting ready to leave 
for the U. S. A. 

On May 15th we started for St. Nazaire and landed there 
late at night, and had to go through everything on the list 
before going aboard the boat. It was 3.30 P. M. when we 



66 GEORGE W. ELLIS 



walked up the gang plank of the U. S. S. "Texan," and at 7 
o'clock we were homeward bound. Where would we land? 
]\Iost of us didn't care where, as long as it was in the United 
States. 

After thirteen days of rolling and tossing and looking for 
land, we steamed up the Delaware River at 10 o'clock on 
May 29th, and at 4 o'clock we entered good old U. S., en- 
trained and started for Camp Dix, N. J. Everywhere you 
looked you could see a ready smile and the country never 
looked so good to us before. 

After eight days of anxious waiting and growling I finally 
received my discharge on June 7, 1919. 

Hoping', with all my comrades, that there will never be 
another war to fight, I am. 



George W. Ellis. 




JAMES F. FITZGERALD 



I I WAS drafted for military service by Local J^oard No. 
^^ 18, February 19, 1918, and reported to the Board 
iS^S on February 23, 1918. I was granted a two weeks' 
extension of time before leaving for camp. 

On ^lareh 11, 1918, I arrived at Camp ]\Ieade and was 
inducted into the military service of the United States. 

After leaving the verification office, with about forty other 
draftees, escorted by an orderly, we were assigned to our 
barracks in the CC Block. We were then given bed sacks 
and marched over to a stable to till our sacks with straw and 
make our bed for the night. 

My next experience of military life was my supper that 
night, called "mess." I met my friend Kalph Keen in the 
mess hall, and we learned from one another that we were 
both assigned to the same company in the depot barracks. 

I spent my evenings in recreation between the Y. ]\L C. A. 
and K. of C. halls, where hospitality^ was their motto. 

I received only one innoculation and was rejected for 
military service. I was marked quarters to await my depor- 
tation home. 

On ]\Iarch 20, 1918, I was honorably discharged from the 
service. 

James F. Fitzgerald. 



(67) 



m 



ROBERT J. GORDON, JR. 

Y experience on the good ship "Stand-Still." "You 
will stand hy and await orders," was the recruiting- 
officer's word after I had experienced and success- 
fully passed the examination and was sworn in the 
navy. Happy ! I did not have to think, then, where to go as I 
was in the navy. I pictured myself lying on the deck of a 
ship smoking and enjoying everj^thing. 

Each day I looked for a letter with orders to report for 
active duty. While waiting some fellows threw wet blankets 
on my pet thoughts by telling me that some of the boys had 
to wait as long as six months before they received their orders. 
However, I continued to watch every mail for some word and 
at last it came. I read it over and over until I knew it by 
heart. It started, "You will proceed." Now that was what 
I wanted to do — proceed, and I did. I reported in forty-eight 
hours to pier No. 19, Vine Street Wharf, for transportation 
to Cape May, N. J. I reported at 7.30 A. M. and after wait- 
ing around until 11 o'clock I was told to get some lunch. In- 
stead of lunch I bought candy. On the train I remarked that 
my stomach did not feel good. It proved it later. 

The train stopped at Cold Springs and about forty other 
would-be sailors and myself walked about a half mile to the 
Wissahickon Barracks. AVhen we arrived and passed into 
the barracks we were out-of-luck. For twenty-one days we 
had no liberties. We were sent to the receiving ship, where 
we gave the necessary details. We were given tags with our 
addresses on and put these on our suitcases or traveling bags 
with "citz" clothes homeward bound. In another room we 
were handed a bar of soap a foot long, two towels and a sea 

(69) 



70 ROBERT J. GORDON, JR. 

bag. We took a shower and had another inspection and then 
received ''a shot in the arm" — it was then that some of us 
weakened. 

Two of the fellows ahead of me dropped as soon as they 
received it. The navy was considerate of such fellows as it 
snpplied mattresses to break the fall from the air to the con- 
crete. Soon I started to perspire, my knees felt unsteady 
and things seemed to jump. I also imagined I was pale. A 
hospital apprentice came over to me and asked if I did not 
want to lie down for a few minutes. I think he wanted to 
save me the mortification of falling. After about five minutes 
on my back I felt better and attempted to get up. As soon 
as I raised my head I became dizzy and everything seemed 
black, so I stayed a little while longer. This was the only 
time I sufi^ered any ill effects from a shot and I never had a 
sore arm. 

We next fell in line for our clothes at the small stores. 
The Storekeepers supplied us with uniforms and did not 
care what size we required. I received a size 46 overcoat. 
After we left the small stores our sea bags had in them every- 
thing we needed in the line of clothing for a four-year enlist- 
ment. 

It was quite a joke to watch a bunch of boots (boots are 
rookies in the navy) in white uniforms, the trousers of which 
were much too long and trailing in the dirt, making for a 
company barracks with a loaded and not properly packed 
sea bag on their shoulders. It was at this time that I met 
Bill Perrine. He was salty then and of course my bag had 
to slip off my shoulders, as they usually do, making me seem 
more awkward in a "gob" uniform. Every one of the sailors 
wlio has been on the station any length of time guj^s all the 
rookies by telling them that their first shot didn't hurt, but 
the second — oh! boy, wait until you get it; thus they tried 
to put the fear of the navy into us. 

When we reported to our company barracks some of the 
more fortunate ones were instructed how to roll and stop 
their clothes. "Stops" are pieces of light rope about one 
foot long. After the clotlies are rolled properly, two stops 
hold them together, one at each end. Stops are also used 



ROBERT J. GORDON, JR. 71 

when washing. To stop clothes on the line is to tie them 
on the lines to dry. They are used instead of clothes pins. 
We were also shown how to lash a hammock and put one up. 
The hammock is a piece of canvas with twelve eyelets on 
either end. Strings are tied through these and should be 
done with care in order to have it ride straight. (The first 
Might mine was far from straight, but I managed to hold my- 
self in until 5.30 reveille.) After having the mattress in the 
hammock one ring is put on a hook at the head and a lashing 
or foot rope is used at the foot to pull the hammock up tight 
and secure it. The hammocks swing about five feet from the 
floor. Old-timers tell the rookies to get a hammock ladder 
to get in, but the proper way to get in is to get hold of a 
pipe above the head, put there for the purpose, and then 
lift the body to the hammock. 

It was hard at first to "hit the deck," "rise and shine," 
as the company commander yelled at reveille. After we hit 
the deck we slipped on our clothes and then lashed our ham- 
mocks. To lash a hammock at first is a trick. One to be 
properly lashed should have blankets neatly folded in the 
center of the mattress and have the edge of the hammock 
drawn together, being sure to have the skin of hammock 
smooth. 

We were allowed fifteen minutes to get up, dress and 
lash the hammock" after reveille. We w^ould then fall in for 
"Swedish" (setting-up exercises). On inspection days we 
did not take Swedish exercise. Then some one would yell, 
"Turn to, man a swab" (swabs are mops) or squeegees. A 
squeegee is a board with a rubber strip in one end, with a 
handle. It squeezes the water off the deck. When we washed 
down decks some threw water on the deck, and then came 
men abreast wdth scrub brooms and would scrub the deck. 
Following these came others, who threw clear water to rinse 
the deck, and then other men came with the squeegees, and 
still more with mops cleaning the corners and drying where 
the squeegees could not reach. While some are cleaning decks 
others are on the bright work, such as spigots or any other 
metal objects that need to be kept brightly polished. Other 
men are blowing their breath on windows and polishing them 



72 ROBERT J. GORDON, JR. 

with newspapers and others have rakes and clean around the 
barracks. After cleaning up comes chow. Every one knows 
the meaning of chow — eats. Even the fellows who did not 
feel so well when squeegees and mops were handed out snap 
out of it. 

I wanted to smoke after I was first in the outfit so I 
started outside. Some one came up to me and told me that 
the smoking lamp was not lit and to look out for a jimmy-leg. 
I could not imagine what he was talking about, but after- 
ward learned that the only time we were allowed to smoke 
was when the smoking lamp was lighted. The jimmy-leg is 
the Master-at-arms. We were permitted to smoke at certain 
hours and only on the compound. The compound is a place 
with specified limits, where smoking is allowed at the proper 
time. 

At 7.45 A. M. muster is called, 8 o'clock drill companies 
go on the drill field until 11.30 A. M. At 8.30 is sick call. 
Men having any sickness should report it at muster and fall 
out. For a while half of our company used to fall out be- 
cause they were not obliged to report on the drill field. Later 
on every one had to report after sick call and we then had 
less sickness. At 11.45 A. M. we received our mail and at 
12 o'clock chow. At 12.45 we have signals or instruction in 
seamanship, and at 4 P. M. we knock off. It was then that 
we washed our clothes. At 6 o'clock ''chow," 6.30 classes in 
blinkers or something else and at 9.30 P. M. "pipe down," or 
other words, bed time. 

One unpleasant thing about the navy is bag inspection, 
especially if one is not ready for it. A bag to be in good 
shape must have all clothes neatly rolled and stopped. At 
bag inspection the bag is emptied and laid on the deck on a 
straight line with all other bags. All clothing is laid out 
with the name showing, blue uniforms to the right, whites 
to the left, whisk brooms standing up in front stuck in be- 
tween blues and whites, the ends running forward and aft. 
Behind the bag is the ditty, where we kept razors, soap, shoe 
brushes, polish and small articles. When opened we stand 
behind our bags at attention while the inspection party passes. 
The object of inspection is to see that nothing has been dis- 



ROBERT J. GORDON, JR. 



73 



posed of without permission and that there is no extra article 
in one's possession that cannot be satisfactorily accounted for. 
Speaking of inspection, when we were on the rifle range 
an Admiral was due to arrive one Saturday, but he did not 
get there. After waiting some time on Saturday we were 
allowed Cape ]\Iay liberty only. This was the first week-end 
and of course we all wanted Philadelphia liberty. Philadel- 
phia so near and yet so far. On Sunday we were standing 
by all the morning waiting for the Admiral. In the after- 




Hydroplane Identifying Vessel Along Our Coast 



noon he came. It was so hot that day that several of the 
sailors fainted after the Admiral passed through the ranks. 
It was a mean crowd. Every one had suggestions to offer the 
Admiral regarding his next trip. Why did he not come an- 
other time beside Saturday and Sunday when we wanted lib- 
erty. After the Admiral left we were allowed liberty until 
7.45 next morning. That night about 6 o'clock I was coming 
out of a drug store on the Boardwalk at Cape May when I 
heard a bugler blowing ''Adjutants call." He was in an 



74 ROBERT J. GORDON, JR. 

automobile, which was going at a high speed. Whenever we 
heard tliat call w^e were to get back to the base as soon as 
possible. 

On arriving at the base we were to "fall in" company 
formation. Of course we were all previously instructed just 
what to do in a ease like this. Everything worked like a 
charm, but no one knew nor had an idea what was happening, 
nor why we got this call to get back. We were all eager to 
speak, but the silence was unbroken except for the footsteps 
of the Captain on the quarter deck. It grew very dark and 
no lights were permitted. Even the red fire exits were put 
out. All lights in Cape May were ordered out. After stand- 
ing in the darkness for some time the Captain asked for 
volunteers for submarines and mine sweepers to go out that 
night. Most all of the men wanted to go. The call was there- 
fore changed to machinists and electricians. The men in our 
company were ordered to get their blankets and fall in quietly 
on the 500-yard line on the range. When all were in forma- 
tion the command came for all men who qualified as marks- 
men to take three steps forward. They did so and closed in, 
and the men to my left were picked to go on watch from 9.30 
until 12.30 that night. The next lot were to go from 12.30 
A. M. till daylight. I came in the last lot. We slept on the 
range until we were called to relieve the first watch. We 
were taken down to the ocean front and were stationed about 
fifteen or twenty feet apart and told not to walk a foot, but 
to stand and watch the ocean so to prevent any landing party 
from the submarines that had been discovered that day and 
which had sunk a couple of ships. 

To stand and watch the black ocean for suspicious lights 
and look for some one to land is quite an experience, espe- 
cially when it lasts for five or six hours. About ten miles 
out was a lightship. After seeing that one light in front of 
me for some time it began to jump and seemed to move first 
one way and then another. It proved later to be my eyes. 



ROBERT J. GORDON, JR. 75 

All night we waited and watched, wishing that something 
exciting would happen, but morning came and nothing liad 
happened. 

We were then sent to the ritle range and were informed 
that all men who qualitied for the marksman course were not 
obliged to push wheelbarrows up an incline of 45 degrees to 
build new butts. Men who could drive a Tackard or iJuick 
automobile were assigned to Irish buggies and had to push 
them full of sand up the incline. I didn't know anything 
about driving cars but, however, I was assigned with the 
others to an Irish buggy. After the first day of pushing the 
wheelbarrow up the hill I saw that the boards laid on the 
ground as a track for the wheelbarrows moved at times and 
held up the entire army of chauffeurs for the Irish buggies. 
The next morning I elected myself track fixer, but another 
sailor got ahead of me and had already elected himself track 
repairer, so I had to be his assistant and by so doing saved 
some energy for old age. 

While on the range I received a box of eats from Young, 
Smyth, Field Company. It was surprising how many people 
liked me that day. 

We were all glad to get back to Wissahickon from the 
range, but we missed the liberties which were allowed every 
other night at port and starboard watches. At Wissahickon 
we had liberty only on Wednesday nights and Saturdays 
from 1 o'clock until Sunday at midnight. The Wednesday 
night liberties did not make much difference to me at first, 
but later on as I became acquainted it was an important 
liberty. 

Being back in camp again we were obliged to live a more 
regular life. Reviews on Saturdays being the most important 
part of our work. The first time our company was to go 
into review every one of course was preparing to do his best 
in order to get the colors. The best drilled company was 
selected for the color company. It proved later that our 
company had no chance at all. 

On falling in the first Saturday we were inspected for 
clean uniforms — whites wore the uniforms of the day. When 
it was my turn to be inspected I knew what to expect and 



76 ROBERT J. GORDON, JR. 

was therefore not disappointed. "Why haven't you on a 
clean uniform"/ ' "Sir," I replied, "I washed my whites yes- 
terday, and as you know it rained last night and so they are 
too wet to put on." In the navy you can have no excuse. 
What chance has a fellow got? I was obliged to fall out with 
the rest. The uniform I had on was not spotless. I put it 
on Thursday noon, and while washing the other naturally it 
was soiled somewhat. I was now with the outcasts and could 
not drill in review with my company. I was with the worst 
bunch of misfits I have ever seen. They were awkward squads 
from different companies and anything undesirable that could 
not keep in step. On the drill field we had fixed bayonets 
at port arms doing double time when one of the misfits be- 
hind me tripped and fell. His bayonet came down on my 
shoulder with an awful blow, just missing my head. He 
being anything but graceful, you can imagine what hap- 
pened — a few more fell over him and in a few minutes the 
company was a fright. Some of us were a block or more away 
and the rest in a heap on the ground. I did not consider 
myself the best drilled at camp by any means, but I felt that 
a few of us had been punished quite enough and I managed 
to get off the field without any further injury. 

While at camp I was never put on report. To be put on 
report the man guilty of any offense has his name taken and 
it is sent to the Executive Officer. The following morning 
his company commander gets a green slip of paper, reading: 
"Have the following men report at mast at 11.30." Mast 
is the place where they give you extra duty. 

Sometimes it is not the fault of the man who is put on 
report, for example : I may wash a white hat and put it 
on the line Saturday morning to dry in order that it will be 
dry for Saturday noon to go on liberty, but some other fellow 
finds on Saturday noon that his hats are dirty and he goes to 
the line and makes a good selection — it is my hat. I come 
later and cannot find it and am obliged to go on liberty with 
the best I have. Sunday morning the lines are to be clean 
before 7.45. All clothes on after that time are taken off by 
the jimmy-legs and put in the lucky bag in the brig. The 
fellow taking my hat at noon was honest enough to put it on 



ROBERT J. GORDON, JR. 77 

the line again, perhaps Sunday morning. I searched Satur- 
day and didn't find it, so naturally did not think to look 
Sunday morning for it. Consequently, it is taken to the 
brig, put in the lucky bag and on Monday morning I get 
notice to report to mast. I report and can't imagine what 
for, never for a minute do I think it is the hat, but it must 
be something terrible. I worry and get uneasy waiting for 
my turn to be heard. It comes at last. The Executive Officer 
says, "Your name Gordon, R. J." "Yes, sir." "Two hours' 
extra duty, that's all." If any one gives him an argument it 
adds to the hours of extra duty. This never happened to me, 
but I explain it to show that it was no fault of mine that it 
did not happen. 

After all my experience in rookie and detail companies 
I was transferred to Ship's Zoo, which is a station company. 
Every one in the ship's company has a regular position some- 
where on the reservation. ]\Iy position was on the gate in a 
little gate house. Our work was to pass the enlisted men out 
on liberty and interview any one coming into the camp. At 
our camp every one had to have permission to come aboard. 
It was my duty to see that the men going out on liberty had 
on the uniform of the day and also to see that they did not 
need a shave. Of course we never turned any one back on 
that account as they usually had some place to go and wanted 
to be clean. In fact, they were very particular about their 
appearance. 

We always knew how many men were on the reservation 
at all times. Many interesting occurrences took place. One 
j?irl brought her husband a box of fruit and good things to 
eat every day. We examined all packages coming aboard 
and on Sunday night we never wanted for good things to 
eat. The Liberty Train was due between 11 P. M. and 11.30 
P. M. and most every fellow on that train came back to camp 
loaded down with Q-ood things to eat and smokes. As they 
passed through with packages opened a great many would 
leave an apple, piece of cake or pie, or anything that would 



78 ROBERT J. GORDON, JR. 

taste good to a sailor at camp. After the rush my desk would 
be full of such things and the orderlies on watch and myself 
usually ate too much. 

To be an orderly on the gate was considered a good job, 
especially while their company was on guard duty. The 
fellows were very agreeable and always on the jump, nothing 
seemed a hardship. Therefore, we were a happy family at 
the gate. 

One day while on duty I was reading and upon hearing 
a girl's voice I looked up, naturally. It was a colored girl 
informing the orderly in commanding tones that she wanted 
to see the Captain at once. I asked her what she wanted to 
see him about. "It's a personal matter," she replied, but 
finally she told me, after much persuasion on my part, that 
her husband was on the reservation as a mess attendant and 
he owed her ten dollars. We let her see some one, but I do 
not think she collected all of the ten dollars that day. 

My experience on the gate was worth more to me than 
I realized at the time. We discovered the real man and the 
part man. Some wanted us to risk court-martial to do them 
a favor, but we no longer considered them friends after their 
first break and through it of course we came in for lots of 
"panning," to use a navy term. It is strange, however, that 
we seemed to grow stronger and more severe as we were 
roasted, and yet had any number of real friends. I had many 
friends, some were not understood by many in the navy, but 
they are still my friends. One buddie came down to the 
gate house many nights and sta3^ed with me and talked just 
to help pass the time for me. ^ly buddie at camp I shall 
never forget. We were always together at camp and on 
liberty and when we were broke we had just as much fun. 
and perhaps more. Often we went to Cape May without a 
nickel and came back late, tired but happ^^ Can I forget 
some one with whom I slept for six months while away from 
home? 

Yes, tlie bathing was fine at Cape May. 

Robert J. Gordon, Jr. 




PHOTO BY BACHRACH 



STEWART W. GRETZINGER 



IN April 19, 1917, I enlisted in the Naval Reserve Force 
^^ as an apprentice seaman, but my career as a sailor 
^IjiM did not commence until September 12th, when I was 
ordered to active duty. Preliminary to real service, 
of course, was the training which I received at Wissahickon 
Barracks, at Cape May, N. J. There I attended classes in 
seamanship, signalling and learned the rudiments of a sea- 
going sailor's duties. Incidentally, I became familiar with 
hatchet and paint brush, and was not entirely unacquainted 
with the pick and shovel. 

One week on the firing line at Sewell's Point Rifle Range, 
which we had built, completed my training and I was trans- 
ferred to a new supply base on Cape Henlopen, near Ijewes, 
Delaware, known as the coal pile of the Fourth Naval Dis- 
trict. Many times I had pictured myself with blistered hands 
and grimy face trying to meet the demands of some time- 
hardened officer. I was, however, happily disappointed when 
I found the task as "soft" as the coal. 

Later I was sent to Philadelphia and was detailed to the 
Ship Inspection Bureau, whose duty it was to search all ves- 
sels leaving or entering this port for bombs, "I. W, W." or 
German propaganda. Also for rubber and copper, which were 
badly needed in Germany. 

At that time the North Bombing Squadron of Naval Avia- 
tion was forming in League Island. I was accepted and sent 

(79) 



80 



STEWART W. GRETZINGER 



overseas on the U. S. S. ''Leviathan," formerly the Hamburg- 
American liner "Vaterland," the largest ship afloat. 

Arriving' at Brest, France, I was sent to the Aviation 
Barracks, but, lacking planes, the squadron became disor- 
ganized. I was detached and sent aboard the U. S. S. "Buf- 
falo" and made several short trips aboard of her to Queens- 
town, Ireland, and other northern ports. Then the "Buffalo" 
went to the British stronghold, Gibraltar, and became a sta- 
tion ship. 




" '■ '*■ i> ' wi < iii i m ' Mw »i 't !■ ' I 'iii J l — nw wi ii i wii f. 1 ^murnvf 







U. S. Naval Gun of Large Calibre Mounted on Car — On its 
Way to the Battle Front 

Here I was again detached and after a short time in the 
barracks I became one of the crew of the U. S. S. "Wheeling," 
a gunboat with a proud pre-war record of 22 years. 

The "Wheeling" convoyed ships with supplies for the 
Austrian front through the Mediterranean Sea to Marseilles, 
France ; Genoa, Italy, and to Bizertte, a small port in the 
French colony of Tunis, that was used to relay supplies to 
the Dardanelles. 

During these trips T had opportunities to view Arabian 
life close at hand. I also visited the far-famed mausoleum 



STEWART W. GRETZINGER 81 



at Genoa, whose marble statuary is unexcelled. These and 
many other interesting things made an occasional liberty 
ashore a much-anticipated event. 

Aboard ship routine life seldom varied and drills for tor- 
pedo defense, fire, collision, etc., were a part of our daily life. 
The watches were seemingly long and very monotonous and 
hence excitement of any nature was welcomed. Attacks were 
not daily occurrences, as submarines seemed to be the pursued 
rather than the pursuers. 

Stormy weather dispelled the theory of a table at which 
to eat and a dry place to sleep. Food was eaten holding on 
with one hand and the decks were usually awash. This often 
furnished much merriment to the old-timers at the expense 
of the newer lads. One such incident happened when a chap 
who had just recently come aboard was standing amidships 
during some rough weather and discussing his need of "terra 
firma." A large wave unexpectedly swept across the deck 
and deposited him precipitously in a bucket. He was washed 
aft for a distance of about sixty feet, causing much laughter, 
until it became apparent that he might be carried overboard. 
The life-rails had been removed in clearing the decks for any 
possible action. Fortunately, the ship crested the wave at 
that instant and lurched forward, causing him to slide back 
to the very spot from which he had commenced his unvolun- 
tary tobogganing. 

Many such occurrences brightened long weeks at sea until 
the armistice was finally signed just as we were preparing to 
leave Gibraltar, our base. Then we were treated to a sight- 
seeing trip to Portugal and Spain. 

After an apparently interminable wait we sailed for the 
U. S, A. via the Azores and Bermuda Islands. On January 



82 STEWART W. GRETZINGER 

y, 1919, we arrived in New Orleans. Here tiie ship was in 
drydock . f or several months for repairs long* delayed. 

It is said that every dog has his day and I suppose a sea 
dog is not an exception to that rule, for on May 26, 1919, I 
was discharged in New Orleans, La., and sent home. 

Summing everything up, I am glad to say that I enjoyed 
the life so well that I would not have omitted a single experi- 
ence, and as a result I have returned better satisfied with 
Philadelphia, U. S. A. and home. 

Stewart W. Grktzingek. 





•PHOTO BY BACHRACH 





G. RALPH GUTHRIE 



INE of the happiest days of my life was on September 
12, 1918, when I left Pier 19, Philadelphia, for the 
Yf^ii Great Lakes Training- Station. The journey we made 
in about forty-eight hours. One of the first things 
that impressed me at Great Lakes Training Station was the 
immense size of the camp. At that time there were over one 
hundred thousand sailors (gobs) there and plenty more com- 
ing in every day. They put us first in Camp Decatur (De- 
tention Camp) for twenty-one days. There we were not 
allowed to go ashore, or, in fact, anywhere. About the third 
day that we were there we were sent over to the Quarter- 
masters to be outfitted with our new uniforms. It was known 
as the "Fastest clothing machine in the world." As we 
marched around the room they threw the different articles 
of clothing to us. In all, it took about fifteen minutes to be 
outfitted with a full sea bag. 

After the twenty-one days were up we were sent over to 
Camp Dewey, where they trained us with guns every morning 
and afternoon for two weeks. 

From Great Lakes we were sent to Hampton Roads, Va., 
a trip of two and a half days. We stayed there only for a 
few days when we were sent to the rifle range at Virginia 
Beach, Va. At this place they had us shooting all day long, 
which sport I enjoyed very much. At first we shot at a 
twelve-inch target from two hundred yards. It was hard for 
me as it was the first time that I had ever had a gun in my 
hands. After one made an average of 75 per cent, he was put 
on the three hundred yard range, and from there on the five 
hundred yard range. In all we were there about one week. 
We were then sent back to Hampton Roads, where we were 
told to stand by for a draft to go to sea. We were only here 

(83) 



84 G. RALPH GUTHRIE 

a few days when we were drafted for the Transport U. S. S. 
"Martha Washington." It was on Saturday, November 23d, 
that we boarded the ship at Norfolk, Va., and the first meal 
we ate on the ship consisted of the old reliable beef stew. 

The U. S. S. "IMartha Washington" was 460 feet long and 
56 feet wide, had six decks and it was capable of making 
fourteen to fifteen knots per hour. Three hundred and 
twenty-five miles per day was about our daily average. The 
crew numbered about five hundred. My first work on the 
ship was oiling in the engine room. I was stationed at the 
pumps to see that they ran all right and that they did not 
become overheated. One of my experiences in the engine 
room happened one night about mid-ocean. I was standing 
by the pumps, which were ejecting the ashes overboard, after 
I had secured the pump I went back to look over the blowers 
(which send the air out in the fire-room) and found on my 
arrival that one of the fans was so hot that it almost burned my 
fingers as T touched it. In a few seconds I started to throw 
ice water on it by the bucketful and oil by the gallon. After 
about an hour's work the fan became normal again. 

Our working hours consisted for a while of four on and 
eight off, and later on they were changed to eight hours on 
and twelve off. In working four hours on and eight off we 
worked four hours in the day time and four in the night, and 
it certainly is lovely to have the twelve to four watch at night. 
Each week we had a different watch, such as twelve to four 
the first week, eight to twelve the next week and the four to 
eight the following week, and so on. 

On November 24th we sailed from Newport News, Va., 
and arrived at New York on November 26th. We left New 
York on November 27th, and on the third day out I was taken 
sick with the mumps, so that I had to lie in bed for two whole 
weeks. Besides the mumps, I had a very bad attack of sea- 
sickness. 

On Deceml)er 5tli we arrived at Brest, France, but I was 
unable to go ashore there on account of sickness. We left 



G. RALPH GUTHRIE 85 

Brest on December 9th and arrived at Newport News on the 
19th, and it certainly was a treat to step on land once more. 

The next trip took us up through the St. George's Channel 
to Liverpool. One of the prettiest sights tliat I think I ever 
saw was the sunrise along the coast of Ireland. We stayed in 
Liverpool for three days. I had only one chance to go ashore 
and one of the first things I found there was that the Eng- 
lish girls were crazy about the Yankee gobs. The city at 
that time was very slow on account of the war, all the stores 
had to be closed at 6 o'clock in the evening. 

From Liverpool we went to Brest. The trip was made in 
one day. We stayed there only about eighteen hours and I 
had, in consequence, to postpone my first trip ashore in France 
a while longer. It is strange that they call it "Sunny France," 
as it rains most all the time. 

Our return trip was made in ten days. We were at New- 
port News for eight days and then we went to it once more. 
This time we went to a place in France called Pauillaic, one 
of its dirtiest towais. It was only a small place of about five 
thousand inhabitants. We stayed there only three days. 

The trip back to Newport News was one of the roughest 
that I ever have made. It took us fourteen days, and seven 
of them we had to eat on the deck and had to catch our chow" 
on the fly. If one let go of it, it would be running back and 
forth across the ship. For many days during this trip and 
manj' other days the ship rolled from side to side and pitched 
up and down. Many times we could see the waves running 
as high as a mountain. 

The next trip that we made we went to St. Nazaire, one 
of the best towns that I have seen in France. We left St. 
Nazaire on April 1st and arrived at Charleston, S. C, on the 
13th, a tow^n that believes in high prices. The people in 
Charleston, however, treated the fellows from the ship mighty 
fine, much better than at Newport News and Norfolk. Va. 

From Charleston we went again to Pauillaic, France, and 
then back to NewT)ort News once more. 

From there we had a rather rough trip to St. Nazaire. 
We arrived about 7 o'clock in the evening and by 6 o'clock 
the next morning we were on our way to the States again. 



86 G. RALPH GUTHRIE 

This time we arrived at Charleston and stayed there ten days. 
We took on board about 650 German prisoners to go to Rot- 
terdam, Holland. Rotterdam was admired by every person 
on the ship, especially for its cleanliness. We had onlj^ four 
hours' liberty there, and of course could not see all that we 
wanted to. We remained there only one day and then went 
to Brest, France, and thence to New York. 

The next trip was one that I v/ill never forget. It took 
us just three months and one week to make it. On August 
4th we left New York and arrived at Brest on the 14th. There 
we all had a five-day leave to Paris — that is to say, one day 



^W»- f f '■^■■7:,: ?4?f"^^*pfU^^ f,'^- ■*" ; ■'**%£ 



^m im 



*it^:M'£ '^M ''^^ j^-^' ■sayiK'-^asBa 



Ammunition Dump, Rarecourt, France — Ammunition was Trans- 
ported by Auto Truck to Battle Front from this Point 

to go on rail, one to come back, and which left only three 
days to see Paris. I happened to be one of the second party 
to go. It took us about twenty-seven hours to get there, rid- 
ing in little old German box cars, during which time we had 
nothing to eat. We arrived in Paris about 6 o'clock in the 
evening. After having supper at the Y. M. C. A., we took 
a long walk through the city and saw many beautiful fights. 
We then went to the parks to look the Paris girls over, 
and found them all right. The next morning we went to the 
Eiffel Tower, just one thousand feet high. It took four ele- 
vators to reach the top, from which one could see miles upon 



G. RALPH GUTHRIE 87 

miles of beautiful scenery. On the top of this tower thej^ 
have ail instrument that shows hoAV much the tower sways 
back and forth. 

In the afternoon we went out to Versailles, about a half 
hour's ride from Paris. There we spent the afternoon going 
through the Peace Palace, formerly the home of King Louis 
XIV of Prance. The palace has over twelve hundred rooms 
and thousands of acres of ground. We were able to see about 
forty rooms, one of which was called the Hall of Mirrors. 
There the armistice was signed just live weeks before. An- 
other room was called the Hall of Battles, where there were 
paintings of all the French Wars. Some of the pictures 
were four and five hundred years old. This palace was one 
of the most beautiful sights I have ever seen. 

The next day we left to go back to the ship, and, upon 
arriving there, we found lots of work, as they were coaling 
the ship. On the 24:th we left Brest, going along the coast 
of Portugal and Spain. On the 27th we arrived at Gibraltar, 
where we remained only four hours. Then we passed through 
the ^lediterranean Sea, the Dardanelles, thence into the 
Aegean Sea, where there were many little islands. For the 
first few days we sailed near the coast of Africa and passed 
Tripoli about 7 o'clock in the evening. We could see nothing 
but the lights. 

On the 2d of September we arrived at Constantinople, 
Turkey, where there were many sights to see. In the Straits 
of Bosphorus we could see Asia on one side and Europe on 
the other. We left Constantinople on the 14th and stayed 
one day at a place called Trebizond, which is in Asia, about 
seven hundred miles from Constantinople. It was a dirty 
place, the dirtiest city in the world, I believe, and all the 
windows in the houses had been broken by the Turks. The 
people were all half starved. 

We left there the next day and arrived at Batum, Russia, 
a very short distance from the Caucasus Mountains. This 
place is noted as a fine summer resort, having a beautiful 
beach on the Black Sea for bathing. We arrived at Batum 
on September 18th and left on October 8th to go back to 



G. RALPH GUTHRIE 



Constantinople. On the way back we stopped at Trebizond 
again and also at Sansun, We had no chance to go ashore at 
these places. 

We arrived at Constantinople on October 11th and stayed 
four days. On the 16th we arrived at Smyrna, Turkey, but 
remained only a half hour. On the 19th we came to a little 
island called j\lalta, where I saw many beautiful churches of 
immense value, having gold and silver all around the inside 
and built of solid marble. Many priests were buried under- 
neath the floors, which were also of marble. It was made of 
pieces which contained the names and dates of birth and 
death of the priests. I was also in St. Paul's Cave, a very 
small cave, where St. Paul imprisoned himself for three 
months when his ship was wrecked off the coast of Malta. I 
also visited a place called the Catacombs, which contained lit- 
tle rooms in which people were compelled to live. The holes 
made by their bodies were still to be seen. In two rooms 
were many old skeletons piled about ten feet high. This 
cave was discovered in 1911 by a man digging a well, and it 
is claimed that these people lived there two thousand years 
before Christ was born. 

On the 19th we sailed and arrived at Marseilles, France, 
on the 23d, but stayed there only a few hours. Then on to 
Gibraltar, thence to Brest, France, arriving there on the 29th 
of October. We stayed at Brest three days and then left for 
the good old United States, arriving at New York on Novem- 
ber 11, 1919, and believe me, the Statue of Libert}^ that day 
was a treat for sore eyes. 

This trip of the Far East was made by the Army Mission 
to Armenia, having General Harver in charge. 

On November 18, 1919, I ended my sea career by being 
paid off and honorably discharged. It was a happy day 
for me. 



G. Ralph Guthrie. 



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PHOTO BY BACHRACH 



X 



ANDERS C. HANSEN 

T was the latter part of IVIarch, 1918, that I decided to 
enter the service. Joe Hooton's letters were arriving 
daily from Paris Island, and they were so interesting 
and cheerful that they finally got me. "Got me" is the 
word, for I thought of nothing but Paris Island and the 
marines. So one afternoon the first week in April I applied 
at the Navy and Marine Recruiting Station, at Broad and 
Arch Streets, for an examination. 

Heretofore I had been under the impression that the 
physical examination amounted to nothing. If you looked 
healthy the doctor passed you and that was all there was to 
it. A very nice surprise was in store for me. 

The recruiting sergeant led me into the room, where a 
half dozen or more were being examined. As I looked on 
and watched the various tests they were subjected to my 
spirits dropped considerably. I pictured myself walking out 
of there rejected on account of poor eyes, heart trouble and 
a half dozen other afflictions. Then I tried to memorize the 
letters on the eyeboard, tried to identify the colors and called 
light blue, green. I immediately convinced myself that I was 
color blind. 

My name is being called. Oh ! my heart, be still. First, 
the eye test ; my left eye wasn't normal. I guess I looked so 
miserable that the Doc decided to try the right. 

I managed to pass everything else and outside of my left 
eye was pronounced O. K. Oh ! boy, wasn't it a grand and 
glorious feeling. Talk about treading on air — I was flying. 
This happened on a Wednesday, and Saturday night we 
shoved from Broad Street Station for Paris Island, S. C. 

There were eight of us all together and a happy crowd 
we were. "We slept in berths as far as Florence, S. C, for 

(89) 



90 ANDERS C. HANSEN 

we realized that it would be many a day before we would 
have the opportunity to do so again. 

That ride on the Atlantic Coast Line is only a memory, 
but some of the cinders still remain. Although that engine 
shed more of said cinders than we thought was necessary, I 
thoroughly enjoyed the trip. Little did I know that a few 
months hence I gladly would have worked my way as fire- 
man, porter or upon any other job and eat the cinders as 
seasoning for an opportunity to go North. 

We stayed overnight at Charleston, S. C, had a good 
night's rest and a shower, the latter being appreciated and 
needed by all of us "cinders." 

In due time we reached Port Royal, S. C, and, dear 
friends, I invite you to embark with me for Paris Island, the 
home of the leathernecks, and learn something of the life and 
making of a marine. There a launch was waiting to take us 
to the island. 

Hurrah! we're off. The bay was very choppy and in a 
short time we were drenched, for it was full speed ahead. 
There were about ten marines in their fatigue clothes (over- 
alls) on the boat, who had been detailed to bring the mail 
from Port Royal to the Island. They were a fine, healthy 
bunch, and, oh ! how I envied every one of them. 

What impressed me most was the utter indifference they 
displayed toward us. One would think that they would be 
bubbling over with questions, but outside of "Is any one here 
from Philadelphia, New York," or whatever town they might 
have come from, no questions were asked. They were not 
interested with what the styles were going to be nor what 
kind of shoes were being worn. They knew what kind they 
were going to wear and at that their interest ended. We 
simply did not belong and they let us know it, not in so many 
words, but by short answers to any questions we might ask, 
and they confined their conversation to themselves. It was 
only natural that we should resent this, but after I had passed 
through the mill I could appreciate their viewpoint. A 



ANDERS C. HANSEN 91 

civilian was nobody, he has nothing in common with you and 
simply does not count. This condition lasts till you have 
shed your civies for the greens. 

I picked up nerve enough to ask a salty-looking marine 
with a few re-enlistment stripes on his arm, if that was Paris 
Island in the distance ? A nod assured me that it was. What 
a busy place. Barges of provisions and lumber were con- 
tinually being towed to and fro. Swarms of marines were per- 
forming their various duties and at that time there happened 
to be about six destroyers anchored off the Island. 

We finally arrived and scrambled onto the landing, where 
we were all assembled and stood by awaiting the Corporal's 
pleasure. 

What's the band playing for ? A company of marines are 
shoving off for Quantico. They have finished three months 
of stiff training and the big goal is in sight, France. They 
are halted in front of us awaiting a barge to take them to 
Port Royal. 

Talk about a happy bunch, they sure looked good to me. 
Three months of exposure to the elements had made them 
physically fit, and with their new uniforms they presented a 
picture that was an incentive to us all. 

Ah! the Corporal is speaking. "All right, you guys; line 
up in fours and follow me." Once more we are off. We are 
now passing through the main barracks. The first building 
we pass is the gym and concert hall. On our right is the 
swimming pool, where I was to spend many pleasant hours 
later. We pass through the officers' row and take the road 
to the Quarantine Camp, arriving there in due time. 

The Quarantine Camp is the pest hole of the earth. It is 
there that you take your final examination before being ac- 
cepted, there that you receive poor eats and are confined to a 
small area. It consists of a half dozen bunk houses, a few 
shower baths and an apology for a Y. M. C. A. It was one 
of the happy events that happened on Paris Island when we 
shoved from there. Every one is impatient because of the 



92 ANDERS C. HANSEN 

final physical examination, which is so stiff that it takes prac- 
tically a whole da}^ before the doctor accepts or rejects you. 

We are assigned to the "Red Bunk House," the dear old 
Red Bunk House where "Toney," its warden, is probably still 
delivering his famous midnight lectures to home-sick rookies. 
We were issued a towel and soap and ordered to stick around 
as we might be needed. Poor, unsuspecting rookies! If I 
were only a Longfellow or a Whittier I would write a poem 
about the rookie that would make you want to throw the 
"Barefoot Boy," "Enoch Arden" and all the other celebrities 
in the garbage can. 

Attention ! Now what ? You guys will eat in mess hall 
No. 3. Mess Hall No. 3 is next to the Red Bunk House. That 
was fine and we were congratulating ourselves on being so 
fortunate. But there was to be no chow for us in Mess Hall 
No. 3 that day. There goes the bugle and as of one accord 
there burst forth from a thousand throats the favorite yell 
of the leathernecks, "Chow." There was a scramble for the 
exits and by the time we reached the chow line there had 
assembled twice as many as the mess hall could accommo- 
date. W^e were S. O. L., but we found out in the course of 
the next few days that this mess hall served the best eats. 

We managed to get into another mess hall and became 
acquainted with our first meal in the Marine Corps. It con- 
sisted of slum, boiled potatoes in their jackets, bread and 
cold tea. Not being very hungry, I was through before I 
started. I made my exit, strolled back to my cot and pre- 
pared myself for a comfortable afternoon. By and by the 
rest of the fellows followed suit and we all agreed that it 
was "pretty soft," when, like a thunder-bolt from out of the 
sky, this fell upon our ears : "All right, all right, snap out-a- 
your hop and report to Mess Hall No. 3." Well, I guess to 
show 'em that we had the making of good marines in us we 
followed him and were introduced to a new friend, K. P. 
(kitchen police). There were dishes to the right of us, dishes 
to the left of us, all clamoring to be cleaned. About a dozen 
of us started the job, and, when I saw the members were 



ANDERS C. HANSEN 



93 



dwindling, I also decided that I would have lots of time to 
become acquainted with this new friend and so I beat it. 

What's he calling through the megaphone? Sounds like 
A. C. Hansen ; it was, so I yelled "Here, sir." I had already 
acquired the "sir" and started on a run toward him. "All 
right, come a running, shake it up," greeted me everywhere 
and by the time I reached that lad who was "paging" me I 
had struck a lively pace. "Report to the Major at Head- 
quarters" ; that was all he said, and away he went. I double- 
timed it to Headquarters and there signed my life away to 
the effect that I had received and distributed among the eight 
men for whom I was responsible till we reached Paris Island 




Wrecked City Hall at Reims, France 



fifty cents a day for meals and that they had all arrived 
safely. The balance of the first day passed without anything 
exciting and at 9 o'clock we turned in. At 9.30 Toney de- 
livered his lecture. I would like to tell you about it but I 
am not equal to the task. He assured us that we would be 
up at 4.80 the next morning as the General was going to 
inspect and we had to mop up the floor, grease the stoves and 
a hundred and one other things, and if we didn't "hit the 
deck" when we were told he would see to it that we did. 

Every one is acquainted with the collapsible iron cots 
and can readily understand what Toney had in store 



94 ANDERS C. HANSEN 

for us. I was very tired and dropped oft' to sleep before he 
had finished. 

Promptly at 4.30 A. M., "hit the deck" was sounded, and 
those who didn't respond hit the floor with a thud, and, be- 
lieve me, you never had to be called twice again. 

We mopped and cleaned those stoves till everything was 
spotless and we were all standing by to see the General, who 
didn't come. 

The following day we were called to take our final exams. 
It was a heart-breaking one for me, but at last it was over 
and I had been accepted. Thanks to the thorough phj^sician 
at our recruiting office, very few from Philadelphia were 
rejected. 

We are now ready to go "over the fence," which means 
we shed our civilian clothes to don the greens, and are no 
longer known as Mr. Our new title is "private.^^ 

We were lined up in our pajamas, filed through one door 
of the Q. M. And when we came out at the other door our 
wardrobe consisted of the following : 

Two pairs shoes, three pairs khaki trousers, one khaki 
coat, three khaki shirts, three suits underwear, three pairs 
socks, one winter field suit of greens, two blankets, one sea 
bag, toilet articles complete, two pairs canvas leggins, knap- 
sack complete, rifle. 

We were then formed into a company consisting of one 
Sergeant, two Corporals and sixty men and were assigned to 
new quarters. There were six new companies formed that 
day, making- one battalion. A captain was in charge, with a 
lieutenant to every two companies, whom we were to see 
very seldom for the first three weeks. 

Having deposited our sea bags in our new barracks and 
drawn clean linen for our cots, consisting of a mattress cover, 
a pillow slip and two sheets, we were ready for the next 
move. It came in the form of a blast of a whistle, and we 
filed out indifferently to become acquainted with our new 
officers. 

"When you guys hear dis whistle it means to get out here, 
not to take your time. You are in de Marine Corps now 
(they never let you forget that), not de National Guard. 



ANDERS C. HANSEN 95 

When we tell you to do a thing we want you to do it and do 
it on da jump. Another thing, don't ask us where we're 
from and if we know such and such a person and don't offer 
us cigars, for we don't want to have anything to do with you 
except in the line of duty. We're here to make marines out 
of you and we're going to do it, and the sooner you get it 
into your heads to do what you are told the better it will 
be for you." After a half hour of this, in which the Sergeant 
had stripped us of every right to call ourselves men and 
reduced our opinion of ourselves to zero, we were dismissed. 

We were insulted beyond words and a few of the braver 
were thinking of demanding an apology, when the whistle 
blew again. Some who had remembered the Sergeant's warn- 
ing about getting out on the jump got out in good time, but 
evidently he wasn't satisfied with the general pep displayed, 
for we had to repeat the performance several times before 
we came up to his idea of snapping into it. 

Corporal King then showed us how to put on our canvas 
puttees. As the marines wear straight trousers there is a 
knack in doing this properly. After spending a few minutes 
at this we were told to bring out all the equipment we had 
drawn at the Q. M. He then proceeded to show us how to 
roll a "heavy." For this two blankets were used, into which 
were rolled a suit of underwear, socks, 0. D. shirt and a 
pair of shoes. This was then strapped to the knapsack. The 
rest of our clothes we packed in our sea bag, a canvas bag in 
which it is possible to pack a trunk full of clothes. We were 
then ready for the hike to the maneuver grounds, where we 
were to train for five weeks. 

New troops are usually confined in quarantine for two 
weeks, but on account of the large numbers of new applicants 
arriving every day we were being outfitted and shoved to 
the maneuver grounds as quickly as possible in order to make 
I'oom for the new recruits. It was a happy crowd that left 
the next morning. Immediately after chow we shoved off. 

There had been many reports as to the distance. Esti- 
mates varied from three to ten miles. It happened to be a 
good six. The going was good for the first mile, every one 
singing "Pack up your troubles in your old kit bag," etc. 



96 ANDERS C. HANSEN 

The second mile the packs were feeling rather heavy. The 
rifles weighed like young trees. Ah ! one could hear the ex- 
clamation of relief that surged through that whole column 
as we came in sight of the maneuver grounds ahead of us. 
Rows and rows of barracks, a big pumping station, drill fields, 
canteen, Y. M. C. A. and K. of C. galore. Yes, that must be it. 

Alas! It was to be five long, weary weeks before we 
should see this place again. It was the training camp or 
rather the finishing camp, where the rough edges of the train- 
ing at the maneuver grounds were polished smooth. 

Through the heart of the camp we marched, six hundred 
strong. Shouts of "Oh ! you'll like it, only six miles more. 
The first twenty years are the hardest," etc., greeted us every- 
where. A non-com who knew P^itz, our Sergeant, gave him 
the grand hello! "Got a good bunch, Fitzf And Fitz, 
being a good scout, yells back, "Worse bunch I ever took 
through." Cheerful outlook, wasn't it? There wasn't much 
to see or talk about along the way. 

There are a few colored natives who raise a little cotton 
and vegetables and do washing for a living. We made two 
stops only between the quarantine and maneuver grounds, 
and that forty-pound pack weighed a hundred and forty 
when we arrived. It was a weary bunch, with very little to 
say and all wishing that they were anywhere but at Paris 
Island. 

The maneuver ground was a new camp and the men were 
just beginning to build barracks. Our sleeping quarters were 
tents and I was fortunate to draw for my bunkie a happy- 
go-lucky Irishman, named Fitzpatrick. He was from Phila- 
delphia and as we had much in common we became fast 
friends. We spent the rest of the day drawing canvas cots, 
mattress, linen, etc. Chow time finally arrived and we were 
marched to our mess hall, where three other companies had 
eaten before us. We had Spanish rice, without seasoning; 
black-eyed susans, a species of bean I had never met before 



ANDERS C. HANSEN 97 

and never want to meet again ; apricots, bread and ice tea. 
With the latter I was fairly saturated before I left the Island. 

Joe had written about the good meals and it was slowly 
dawning on me that everything wasn't as Joe had pictured 
it to us. 

I was feeling thirsty and I decided to quench my thirst 
and fill my canteen for the night. Fitz joined me and we 
strolled to the pump. It was located a few hundred yards 
from our company street. I was all set for a good drink 
and had taken a few good swallows, when suddenly I lost 
the Spanish rice, black-eyed susans and everything else. This 
well had been dug a hundred yards or so from the bay and 
as we were surrounded by salt water it had a salty taste. 

In time I became used to it and liked it very much. 

We retired early that night and it seemed I had hardly 
closed my eyes when reveille sounded. It was very cold, and 
oh ! how I did hate to pile out. Bang ! the Corporal's "baton" 
goes on the tent. "Snap out of it, I don't want to have to 
call you the second time." While it was still dark Fitz and 
I began a search for our socks. We were so tired that we 
couldn't remember what we had done with anything. When 
I did locate mine they were soaking wet. The dew Jiad been 
very heavy and our clothes were damp. But what's a little 
dampness compared to the Corporal's displeasure. 

After reveille we have five minutes in which to dress 
and roll up our tents. At the sound of the whistle we line 
up for roll call and a new day has begun. We have roll call 
immediately after reveille, before every formation and the 
last thing at night, and woe to him who is not present. 

Here comes the Sergeant. "Company, attention !" com- 
mands the Corporal. 

The Sergeant exclaimed, "You men haven't been snap- 
ping into it enough to suit me. I am going to give you a 
few lessons in military courtesy. A non-com ofificer doesn't 
rate a "sir," but while you are in training you will always 
address us as "sir," and when replying to a question say, 
"Yes, sir," or "No, sir." When you have occasion to make 
a request for something you will carry yourself in a military 
manner and upon coming to a halt snap your heels together, 



98 ANDERS C. HANSEN 

have them extended at an angle of 45 degrees and say, "Sir, 

Private requests permission to do so and so." The 

penalty for forgetting to put the private before your name 
was five buckets of shells. To get them one had to walk 
about two miles, and all this was done in the evening when 
the fortunate ones were spending a few hours before taps as 
they pleased. 

It was some time before I got used to saying Private 
Hansen, sir, but a Sunday spent in the mess hall and another 
spent in carrying shells sort of impressed it on me. 

Incidentally, these shells were used to fix up our com- 
pany street. It looked as though they had moved the beach 
to our company street before we left there. 

The third day at the maneuver grounds we were told to 
wash one complete change. Immediately after drill we lined 
up with our pails, soap, brushes and clothes and away we 
went. All had to be scrubbed. Naturally this was hard on 
the clothes, but it certainly had the desired effect. They 
allowed us one hour to do this. When every one had returned 
with his wash we lined up and the Corporal inspected. The 
first one to have his looked over was Fitzpatrick. The Cor- 
poral looked over the white clothes, hesitated, then looked over 
the khaki, then looked 'em all over again and then dropped 
them all on the ground. All the while Fitz stood there with 
a strained look on his face. It was a terrible moment for us 
all and we all shared the same fate. 

There stood sixty men at attention, sixty suits of wet 
wash at their feet, for we had to wait for the Corporal's com- 
mand to pick them up. Everything is done by the numbers 
in the Marine Corps. 

"So you think you are going to get away with that mur- 
der, do ya ; well, you'll wash them clothes after taps and 
carry shells after chow till taps." Not once during my three 
months' training were we complimented on having done 
something well. 

Every day we had foot and body inspection by the 
doctors. Then followed three weeks of stiff training, during 
which time we were versed in the art of infantry drill, how 
to roll packs, parades, guard duty, etc. We were innoculated 



ANDERS C. HANSEN 99 

every Saturday for the first three weeks. Sunday morning 
there was troop inspection by the company commander, after 
which we were free for the day. 

The great events were mail call and pay day. My first 
pay was 85 cents. Orders were received that we were to 
shove for the training camp on Sunday morning. (All 
traveling is done on Sunday.) The mail box was taxed to 
its utmost that night and all were in good spirits. Why not ? 
It was good-bye to the tyrant cook, poorly stocked canteens 
and terrible drill fields. Try to imagine our drilling on a 
newly plowed field, for that is what we did for five hours a 
day, and two hours were spent on the parade ground, when 
it w^asn't covered with water. 

Sunday morning, immediately after chow, we were or- 
dered to roll our heavies and pack sea bags. There was no 
grumbling about rolling packs that morning and every one 
turned to. 

About 10 o'clock we were assembled on the parade 
grounds and the inevitable inspection was pulled off. How- 
ever, there comes an end to all things and at last we were 
off. All the pep instilled into us by three weeks' hard train- 
ing and one hour a day singing lessons was spent in that 
first mile. "Marine Hymn," "Katie," "Long, Long Trail" 
and many others were sung, till every one was hoarse. The 
shoulders soon started to feel sort of cramped and the heavy 
didn't feel as good as it did the first mile. But that hike 
was nothing compared to the first one. The drilling with 
light and heavy packs every day had hardened us and we 
had learned to roll them so that it was easy. 

It was only a little more than three miles to the training 
camp. On arriving there we were immediately assigned to 
barracks. Oh ! boy, this was something like the life you read 
about. 

The barracks were one-story affairs and accommodated 
thirty-five cots, with a window over every cot. There was a 
mess hall for two companies and that meant no waiting for 



100 ANDERS C. HANSEN 

chow and good eats. It was there that we found the best 
cooks and some of them were really artists in their line. 

There was always something at the Y. M. C. A. and 
K. of C. huts, and there was a big, well-stocked canteen in 
the heart of the camp. Then there were any number of 
stores on the main road, where anything in the way of fruit, 
cake and ice cream could be had. This was a real treat, as 
the maneuver grounds had nothing in the line of canteens 
nor stores to offer us. Later, however, this was remedied and 
a large canteen was built there. I spent the best part of 
my first night writing letters home. 

You will remember how on my arrival at Port Roj^al, 
S. C, I had envied those marines who had been detailed on 
mail duty. Think of it, our company has been assigned to 
this job tomorrow. This is called fatigue duty, and all troops 
get a few days of this on arriving at the training camp. 

The next morning we marched into the main barracks 
and drew a suit of dungerees (overalls), then down to the 
wharf, where we stood but a short five weeks ago, a lot of 
forlorn civies. Every one was happy, it was a beautiful day 
and we would be off the Island all day except for chow. 
And who knows, maybe we might see a little of the fair sex. 
It was the same bunch that brought us to the Island that 
hauled us that day. It was a busy day from start to finish, 
and outside of a visit to a ham-and-egg restaurant we passed 
the entire day slinging mail bags. We quit at 4 o'clock and 
returned to the Island and to an early bed. Our schedule 
now consisted of a few hours' drill a day, lots of parades, 
bayonet exercise and inspection of equipment every day. 

Saturday was Field Day. Now one couldn't exactly say 
that we were stupid because we thought it was meant to be 
a day of recreation and athletic events. This is what we did : 
Took out all the cots and bedding for a good airing and wore 
out a few brooms and mops on the bunk house. After that 
we tackled the mess hall and had to holy stone that. Do 
you know what holy stoning the deck means? Well, you 
flush the floor with water and then throw lots of sand around, 
get down on your hands and knees and go over it with a 
brick, and if you think that isn't labor personified, just give 



ANDERS C. HANSEN 101 

it a try. It certainly had the desired effect, thoug-h, and we 
recommend it especiallj^ for the I. AV. W. 

Saturdaj^ was hair-cutting da.y, a general clean-up all 
around. We usually had a game of baseball Saturday after- 
noon, Ty Cobb's brother being captain of the team. 

And so four weeks passed while we were waiting our 
turn on the rifle range. At last we are to go on the range 
Monday. Our Sergeant gave us a talk about snapping in, 
told us that he had only been made a sharpshooter because 
he hadn't snapped in enough while he was on the range. 
He told us that ours was a good company, one of the best 
he had ever had. We were to see very little of him for the 
next three weeks, as the Corporals would have charge of us 
to and from the range, and he wanted every man to qualify 
or he would put him in the cook school. The cook school is 
the bane of all marines and not one out of a hundred volun- 
teers for that duty. 

We were fortunate in drawing the early shift on the 
range and at 5 o'clock we hit the deck, mopped up the bunk 
houses and promptly at 7.30 we were at the range. At last 
we had made the circuit — from the quarantine camp to the 
maneuver grounds. From there to the training camp and 
then to the range. The range is only a quarter of a mile 
from the quarantine camp. The target facing a long stretch 
of marshes that extend to the bay. 

Our first day was spent learning how to sight and learn- 
ing the sling positions. They are very difficult at first and 
produced numerous cramps. After two days of this we were 
assigned to our coaches. There is a coach for every man. I 
drew target No. 25 and a splendid coach. He took lots of 
pains with his men, knew lots about a rifle and was a good 
judge of windage. Every man he ever instructed qualified. 

Our course consisted of four ranges : 

Two hundred yards kneeling, rapid fire. 

Three hundred yards slow fire, five shots kneeling and 
five standing. 

Three hundred yards rapid fire, prone. 

Five hundred yards rapid fire, prone. 

Five hundred yards slow fire, prone. 



102 ANDERS C. HANSEN 

Six hundred yards slow fire, sand bag rest. 

On each range one shoots ten shots, making a total of 60 
shots, with a score of 300. 

Bull's-eyes count five, lesser shots are four, three, two 
and miss. To be an expert one must shoot 253 or better. 
Sharpshooters 238 or better, and marksman 203. Below that 
you fail to qualify. 

The first week was spent snapping in. For instance, 
on the 200-yard range one is only allowed a minute in which 
to fire ten shots. He can only put five shells into his rifle 
at a time, so that means that he must allow time to insert 
his other clip of five shells. Sometimes one fails to put them 
in right, and as all these things take time he can't afford to 
be careless. 

This is an easy range, and, like the 300-yard rapid, it is 
here that one must make good scores to offset the more diffi- 
cult ranges. On the 300-yard slow range one fires at an 
eight-inch bull's-eye, and as he shoots this from a kneeling 
or standing position, it takes some shooting to make 45 and 
upwards. Three hundred yards rapid fire is easy. One 
stands upright. The coach commands, "Load and lock your 
pieces." The clip is inserted and all is ready for his com- 
mand, "Ready on the firing line." Look towards the targets 
from this range, one can hear the bells signalling the targets 
to go up. Up they go, and down he goes, gun in left hand 
and falling on your right. He gets a good position as quicklj^ 
as possible and begins popping away, as there is only one 
minute in which to do it. This sounds hard, but it really is 
the easiest range. 

The 500-yard is a repetition of the 300-yard, but it is the 
hardest range of all, especially the rapid fire. I only produced 
a score of 24 on this range out of a possible 50. 

The 600-yard slow fire, sand bag rest, is a good range. 
If the sights are lined up correctly, slings adjusted right, 
it is easy to make 40 on this range. 

I spent three weeks doing this. It was great. We 
lounged around in old clothes, padded coats and had no in- 
spections. We washed our clothes when we wanted to and 



ANDERS C. HANSEN 103 

every one knows what a pleasure it is to shoot when he can 
hit what he is aiming at. 

The rifle range is the most pleasant part of one's stay 
on Paris Island. 

We shoot for record tomorrow. 

This time tomorrow some will be feeling happy, others 
will have the indigoes very badly. I know of one case of a 
fellow who, failing to qualify, began brooding over it and 
shot himself. 

When it was my turn to shoot for record it happened to 
be the 500-3^ard slow fire that had been selected. I was glad 
of this, for it was a good range and I could take my time 
shooting. I made a good score on this range, all my nervous- 
ness disappeared and I settled down to business. 

It was on the 500-yard rapid fire and the 300-yard slow 
fire that I lost out and made a score of 236, qualifying as a 
"]\larksman." 

I had become very friendly with my coach and was very 
sorr}^ to have to say "Good-bye." To me that was the toughest 
part of the service. We met but to part again. 

We said good-bye to the range and once more were ready 
for what came next. 

That afternoon we were assembled on the drill field and 
assigned to our new outfits. 

As a rule, when a battalion has finished its training, it 
shoves to Quantico, the real home of the marines, and from 
there to France. Specialty men, however, were scarce, and 
our battalion was split up among the various schools. Some 
to radio, others to bayonet or non-com officers' school. There 
were so many new recruits coming and not enough non-coms 
to handle them. I selected the Radio School along with a 
dozen others and that afternoon we said the said farewell 
to our buddies who were assigned elsewhere. 

My boot training had ended, I was a marine. Our new 
quarters were the best on the Island. We were located in 
the main barracks. Canteens that weren't always crowded 
so full that one had to line up for a half hour at a time before 
he secured what he wanted. A complete library, swimming 
pool, tennis court, gj^m, concerts every night and a chow 



104 ANDERS C. HANSEN 

hall where a Delmonico presided. Two to a tent with a 
wooden deck — we were allowed to make a desk or anything 
else that we wanted. Two locker boxes to each tent, electric 
lights and we had to stand no formations. Sergeant Haley 
was in charge. He was a wonderful specimen of manhood, 
having spent most of his time out of doors. 

While in training our non-coms never mingled with the 
men, but Haley became acquainted with us all and spent 
all his time with us. Our new duties were semaphore and 
wig-wag in the morning, telegraph in the afternoon and 
blinkers three nights a week. 

We used the International Morse code. I knew some- 
thing about this before I entered the service and it came very 
easy to me. I graduated from the school in two weeks out 
of a seven weeks' course and took up the buzzer and radio. 
I was made a non-commissioned officer and instructor in the 
Signal School. We had a station at the maneuver grounds 
and a tower watch at the training camp. By means of the 
heliograph, an instrument supported by tripods and worked 
by means of two glasses in conjunction with the sun, a flash 
was produced. A shutter is set on the front tripod and the 
glasses are lined on the object in view. Then by the dot 
and dash we talk to each other. It is very interesting. One 
stormy night, when the bay was rough, we caught an S. 0. S. 
signal out on the bay and we notified headquarters and 
assistance was rendered. After that every one wanted the 
night watch. 

There wasn't enough to do. I wasn't working more than 
an hour a day and that was far from being good for me. 
My goal was France. It was my reason for enlisting in the 
Marine Corps. I thought my chances were better than in 
the other branches of the service. 

When I entered this Radio School they assured me that 
I would see Quantico within seven weeks. I stayed there 
from July till October before I was released. On October 
13th I shoved from Paris Island to Quantico. 

If this poor pen of mine were only equal to the task it 
might tell of the joy that was prevailing that day. I saw 
one lad get an ugly cut over the left eye from the front sight 



ANDERS C. HANSEN 105 

of another fellow's rifle. This latter fellow was adjusting 
his sling to fit his shoulder when the man next to him leaned 
sideways for some reason and the fellow's rifle caught him 
over the eye. It bled so profusely that we had decided to 
call the Sergeant in charge, but he pleaded so hard with 
us not to do it that it was impossible to resist him. He would 
have been taken out of line and some one else sent in his 
place. He tied a handkerchief over his eye, pulled his hat 
forward and got to Quantico O. K. That is an example of 
the spirit that existed everywhere. I don't believe that there 
was a man who didn't want to go to France. 

On our way North we stopped at Richmond and paraded 
through its streets. I can't say that I enjoyed it very much 
and I know that no one but the Captain in charge was in 
favor of the idea. We had had all the parading we wanted. 

On arriving at Quantico our companies had already been 
organized and in a few minutes we were marching off the 
fields to our new quarters. From that time on there was 
one surprise after another in store for us. 

The Lieutenants mingled with the men. The non-coms 
were called by their first name. Of course there was a rea- 
son for it. It was to get men to co-operate and it worked 
well, for we would have followed our officers anywhere. It 
was this spirit that they were trying to cultivate. 

One week was all we had of Quantico. We turned in 
our marine clothes and drew overseas uniforms (army uni- 
forms). October 25th we shoved for Hoboken, and that 
night I slept on the good ship "Henderson," a navy trans- 
port. The quarters were crowded, but who minded the crowd- 
ing, we were going to France. 

A battleship and destroyers convoyed us and there were 
five other transports. 

On November 9th we were steaming slowly into the beau- 
tiful harbor of Brest and landed the next day. 

I am not going to tell you of my experiences "Over there," 
I will leave that to others. T will outline my stay there. 

At Brest they say the mud was knee deep. I assure 
you that there was lots of it, and every time I wrote home T 
added two more inches and I am sure that it increased con- 



106 ANDERS C. HANSEN 

tinually. I read in one of our papers over there that a cer- 
tain doctor had analyzed the mud and found it healthy. He 
watched us eating our meals and mistook us for a lot of pigs. 

From Brest we embarked on Frog trains "eight cheveaux 
or forty hommes/' which means "eight horses or forty men 
can be accommodated in this car." In one corner of the car 
we piled ten loaves of bread, tomatoes, beans and two jars of 
jelly. Thirty-five men were in that car and we couldn't move. 
That trip is still a nightmare. 

We went to Chatillon-Sur-Cher and stayed there for 
eight weeks, in which time we were training eight hours a 
day, even though the armistice had been signed. We had 
bayonet, hand grenade, gas and open warfare drill from 
morning till night. 

I don't think I ever was or will be as phj^sically fit as I 
was when we shoved from there to St. Nazaire, France. It 
was there that I stayed until I left for the States. 

Joe Hooton was at the delousing camp, St. Nazaire, when 
I was there, only two barracks away. We ate in the same 
mess hall and he sailed on the "Princess Matoyka" when I 
had charge of the dock to which she was moored and yet I 
missed seeing him. 

It was a bitter disappointment to me when I heard from 
him after he had arrived in the States and I learned that he 
had been there. 

Mr. Martin, through his son, made possible my return 
to the States sooner than if I had sailed with my outfit. 

As it was I sailed for the United States on the 14th of 
May, arriving here in good time. I spent a few weeks at 
Quantico, awaiting my discharge, which was held up on 
account of some deposits I had made in France. Again j\Tr. 
Martin came to my assistance and my discharge was effected 
immediately. 

Would I like to see France again? Yes, but only as a 
tourist. 

Anders C. Hansen. 




PHOTO BY BACHRACH 



m^^R^c 




OLIVER R. HARVEY 



y^^ TIIS country had not severed relations with Germany 
^y when I enlisted in the U. S. Naval Reserve, but diplo- 
matic relations were strained almost to the breaking 
point, and, in consequence of this condition, it was 
apparent to me that the time was near at hand when there 
would be a call for defenders of the U. S., and being encour- 
aged with the volunteer spirit I offered my services with more 
or less enthusiasm. This was on March 29, 1917, and I was 
called to the colors April 19, 1917. 

After reporting at the Philadelphia Navy Yard, I donned 
the "blue jacket" uniform, and proceeded to Wilmington, Del., 
where I was assigned a position in the recruiting corps. Our 
party performed this duty only a very short time, when on 
May 2, 1917, we were ordered back to the Navy Yard. After 
reporting, I was detained at the Seamen's Barracks but a 
week, and in that week I was kept exceedingly busy. 

It was on May 9, 1917, that my name was called out at 
muster to report on Mine Sweeper No. 3, then lying at the 
Philadelphia Navy Yard. The name of this vessel was later 
changed to the U. S. S. "McKeever," S. P. 684. My rating at 
this date was yeoman 3d class, and my duties aboard ship were 
of a clerical nature. They consisted in keeping records of all 
kinds, answering correspondence, keeping mess accounts, and 
looking after the provisioning. These duties, I can truly say, 
left me little time to devote to anj'-thing else. 

Our vessel was a part of Squadron No. 16, and at this time 
it was being remodeled and equipped for mine sweeping, 
although it had been originally used for fishing. The vessel 
was of 234 tons, propelled by steam and capable of making 
only 12 miles an hour. 

On June 12, 1917, we steamed out of Philadelphia Navy 
Yard, and loaded ammunition at Fort Mifflin, then proceeded 
down the river for mine sweeping along the coast. 

Our first attempt at sweeping was on June 14, 1917, just 
outside of Delaware Breakwater and it was quite successful, 
for a green crew. 

(I07) 



108 OLIVER R. HARVEY 

Mine sweeping means hard work for all on board a sweeper. 
It is carried out by vessels running in pairs, with a heavy 
steel cable joined to both vessels. The vessels separate for a 
considerable distance with cable sunk under water by means of 
a kite or a heavy triangular object made of thick boards and 
reinforced with iron. The kite itself weighs 1900 pounds, and 
tends to keep the cable 18 or 20 feet under the surface. 

Mines are usually anchored to a weight at the bottom with 
quarter inch cables and the inch cables we used required but 
little effort to cut them loose. 

On the 15th of June, 1917, while sweeping inside the 
Delaware Bay, we caught an immovable object with our cable 
and wrecked part of the deck-house amidship, and also tore up 
part of the deck. Three of our crew were injured. We 
limped into Lewes, Delaware, and transferred the injured men 
to a faster boat, which delivered them to Philadelphia Navy 
Yard for treatment. 

After making a few minor repairs we proceeded back to 
the Navy Yard for repairs, as our vessel was completely out of 
commission for mine sweeping. 

August 2, 1917, our vessel was again ready for sea, and 
started back to Lewes, Del., to continue our work. This time 
we swept along the coast, off Delaware and New Jersey, and 
at all times keeping in the coastwise shipping lanes. This 
course also included the Delaware Bay entrance. Our w^ork 
began to get very monotonous, as the vessel started for the sea 
lanes at the break of day and our duty did not end until the 
sun disappeared in the west; then we proceeded to port or 
anchored in the bay until daylight. 

We were becoming quite expert at sweeping by this time, 
as we gave the signals for the other vessels working with us to 
turn either to port or starboard, by different blasts of the 
whistle. As it started to grow dusk, the senior boat of the 
squadron blew seven short and one long blast of the whistle 
when all vessels would stop and every man turn to and help 
pull the kite aboard, then haul in perhaps 800 fathoms of cable 
and steam for port. It seemed our day's work w'as never 
ended, for as soon as we arrived in port we were obliged to 



OLIVER R. HARVEY 



109 



provision the ship or coal up before we could turn into our 
bunks for sleep. 

Liberty would be granted only after all work was done, 
or if the ship stayed in port for repairs, we would take turns 
going ashore. 

October 8, 1917, we joined the other vessels of the district 
and steamed to Old Bare Shoal, just inside Delaware Bay, for 
target practice. This was real sport and every man, I think, 
considered it such. We had two 3-pound guns and went over 
the course laid out and fired twenty shots at a raft with 
canvas held upright, scoring a number of hits, but our score 




Camouflaged Mine Sweeper — U. S. S. McKeever, 684 

did not compare very favorably with that of some of the other 
vessels. Target practice only lasted a few days, and we again 
returned to our station. 

On October 13, 1917, our vessel was part of a convoy for 
the battleship "Iowa" from Delaware Bay to Hampton Roads, 
Va., as she was disabled and could not use her guns. This 
trip was a pleasure trip compared with our usual line of work. 

The greater portion of the winter of 1917 was spent at a 
shipyard for repairs. Our vessel had started to leak, and its 
condition was so bad that it was necessary at times for the 
firemen and machinists to work in the engine room in 7 or 8 
inches of water. 



110 OLIVER R. HARVEY 

Early in the spring of 1918, while at our station, we were 
ordered to go to the rescue of a schooner off the Virginia 
coast, which had been rammed by the U.S.S. Collier "Jupiter." 
It was a mean day at sea. We ran into many fog banks ; some- 
times it would be several hours before we could see a hundred 
yards ahead. Along about 4 o'clock that afternoon we heard 
the ringing of a heavy ship's bell, then a siren would start 
giving a long blast, then a short and so on, and when de- 
ciphered, we found it to be the "Jupiter" calling for aid. 
Twenty minutes later we were alongside of the collier, with 
the schooner "Henry G. Foss," anchored just a short distance 
ahead. The collier wanted to continue on her way, as she was 
laden with coal and supposed it was for a convoy to Europe. 
The Captain notified us of the collision by megaphone and 
continued on his way. We took the schooner in tow to Dela- 
ware Breakwater, when another vessel took her in charge. 
The schooner had her stern cut off by the sharp bow of the 
collier in a heavy fog, but far enough above the water line 
to prevent her from taking water. 

Later, upon different occasions, we swept ahead of battle- 
ships entering or leaving Delaware Bay, to assure them of 
safety. 

On May 25, 1918, our squadron was on the job day and 
night, for this was the date when the German submarines were 
first sighted along our coast. And on this day the tanker 
"Herbert L. Pratt" was sighted off the Delaware Capes. She 
had struck a mine and her bow was sunk leaving her stern up 
high out of the water. Other vessels went to her aid. The 
next few succeeding days our squadron cut loose and brought 
several mines to the surface, which were fired on and exploded. 

Our work was becoming real interesting, as our efforts were 
producing results. At dusk we stopped sweeping and pa- 
trolled along the coast looking for the underwater terrors. 
Every man was at his post, and occasionally I would drop my 
duties for several days and stand a watch at the wheel or, in 
other words, steer the vessel. I acquired this knowledge 
shortly after going aboard and spent much time helping the 
Captain plot courses on the maps or laying out mined areas 
which we were to sweep. 



OLIVER R. HARVEY 111 

In addition to the mine sweeping gear, we also carried 
depth charges. The first one we threw over the side created 
a great deal of excitement among the crew, as it was feared it 
would do our hull some injury. Well, it lifted our stern a foot 
out of the water and shook us up a bit, but did no real damage. 
Our vessel was too slow in getting away. This depth charge 
was dropped to remove an undersea obstruction, as it caught 
our cable in going over this spot. 

We were kept so busy at sea that we coaled, provisioned 
ship and filled our water tanks at night. Liberty at this time 
was at a premium or really was impossible and some of our 
boys did not go ashore for a month at a time. After several 
months of this strain there were several new steel mine 
sweepers added to our squadron, which relieved us from duty 
a day or so each week. 

We had a diversion from the regular routine one day when 
we were ordered out after bodies which had been sighted off 
Five Fathom Bank Lightship, which is twenty miles or so off 
the Delaware Capes. The bodies were supposed to have been 
from a schooner that was fired upon and sunk by a submarine. 
We came across a hydroplane upside down in the water and 
the Senior Officer on another boat ordered us to haul it aboard 
if possible and take it into port. The other vessels proceeded 
on their way for the bodies. 

We loaded the plane on board after several hours of work 
and delivered it at Cape IMay Naval Base. The only parts 
really salvaged were a few instruments and the engine. The 
occupants of this plane were saved a few days previous by a 
passing patrol boat. 

Another instance that stands out prominently to our credit 
was bringing into port one of our submarines, the M-1. Her 
steering gear had jammed hard to one side and she was utterly 
helpless 30 miles from shore. It took two mine sweepers to 
bring her in, the U. S. S. ''Breakwater," No. 681, and our vessel. 
One towed and the other kept her straight. The reason it was 
a credit to us was on account of our good seamanship, as a 
submarine hull is so thin that a little jolt from our vessel would 
have stove her side in. We accomplished this task without any 
damage to her. 



112 OLIVER R. HARVEY 

I might here say a word for the part the American sub- 
marines played in trying to oust the German submarines from 
our coast. They worked independently of any other vessels and 
followed steamers up and down the coast to trap or learn the 
whereabouts of the German submarines. I understand that 
they were fired upon on several occasions by the Allied 
steamers, thinking' they were enemy submarines. We met 
them a number of times while on duty, but always recognized 
them through signals, having had a wonderful code for recog- 
nition purposes. 

Considering the dangerous task our fleet went through 
during the war, we came out of it very luckily, as the Mine 
Sweeper U. S. S. "Annie Gallup" was the only vessel lost, 
having been driven up on the Delaware beach during a storm, 
and lashed to pieces by the sea. None of her crew was lost. 
Another vessel, the U. S. S. "Mary Garner," S. P. 682, lost one 
man, who was washed overboard from her deck during a heavj^ 
northwest gale that swept the coast and was drowned. Of 
course there were deaths from disease, especially during the 
influenza epidemic, but comparatively few. We had eleven 
down with the "flu" on our vessel, but all recovered. 

Our work grew very tiresome and the signing of the 
armistice was a great joy for us. But at the same time it did 
not stop our work, for it was not yet completed. We worked 
from charts furnished by Germany, giving the location of 
mine fields, and we located a number of mines througli 
their use. 

On January 19, 1919, the day I was transferred to the 
Naval Base, Cape May, and released from active duty, our fleet 
cut loose and brought to port a large pear shaped mine. 

During my time in the service, I was advanced from a 
yeoman 3d class to yeoman 1st class and feel that the part I 
played in this great war was small in comparison to that of 
many, but it is gratifying to know that I was in the service 
from start to finish, and that as the great conflict becomes a his- 
tory, every man participating in it will feel proud of the 
service that he rendered. 

Oliver R. Harvey. 



p. JOSEPH HOOTON 

// the Army and the Navy 
Ever look on Heaven^s scenes, 

They will find the streets are guarded by 
The United States Marines. 



XI DON'T suppose there is any fellow that enlists who 
experiences the same sensations as the chap who goes 
ggggj into the Marine Corps. 

When he arrives in camp he naturally feels pretty 
blue after just leaving' home, and the attitude of the old timers 
don't help things much. As he goes on with his training, he is 
still dissatisfied. The work is hard. One is up long before 
daybreak and at it long after dark, doing every kind of a job 
imaginable. They never heard of an eight-hour day in a 
''boot camp." 

I enlisted on January 3, 1918, and was sent to Paris Island, 
S. C, and as the average marine's experiences are the same 
while in training, Tom Hansen's and Gordon Smyth's accounts 
will give you a general idea of my work there. 

One of my real treats while at Paris Island was the box 
Young, Smyth, Field Company sent me. It certainly was 
great to feel that the folks back in the store thought enough of 
us fellows to send us such a wonderful "bunch of eats," as one 
of the chaps expressed himself. We had enough to eat for 
a week. 

When a marine has finished his training on old Paris 
Island, there is no one with a vocabular^^ forcible enough to 
convince him that anyone could belong to a better organization. 
The Marine Corps traditions had been preached to him since 
his first day in uniform. "Pride of the Corps" is said to be the 
big factor in keeping up the marine's morale. The slogan, 

(113) 



114 P. JOSEPH HOOTON 

"Once a marine, always a marine," is absolutely correct. We 
never lose a chance to boast of the fact that we were once 
marines. 

The day we left Paris Island was certainly an eventful one 
for us. We felt almost as though we were leaving a prison, 
because, while in training, we were not permitted to leave the 
island. We never had a chance to talk to a white woman and, 
to some of us, that was indeed a hardship. 

We were a full war strength battalion of 1,000 men and we 
piled on a large seagoing tugboat. Those who couldn't find 
room on the boat marched on an enormous flat boat, which was 
towed by the tug. AA^e went across the bay to Port Royal and 
from there entrained for Quantico, Va., another marine camp. 
From there I had a two-day liberty and came home. This was 
the only time I saw the folks before I went across. 

The following Tuesday we left for the Philadelphia Navy 
Yard and immediately went aboard the ship, which was loaded 
with everything necessary except our personal effects, which 
some of us were detailed to put aboard later. 

The next morning we sailed for France. There were twelve 
ships in our convoy. The trip was quite uneventful, except 
for an occasional ship passing on its way to the States, or a 
school of whales which followed us until we reached the war 
zone. Here we were met by a fleet of eleven destroyers. We 
were ordered to put on life belts and were not permitted to go 
below decks after dark. A buddie and myself brought our 
blankets up on deck and lay aft, immediately behind one of the 
guns. One of the look-outs sighted a submarine. We had just 
gone asleep when the gun went off and we thought we were 
finished. A little battle took place and we were at our position 
for abandon ship. The destroyers went back and dropped 
depth bombs. Later, when the destroyers signaled to the ''Hen- 
derson" and music sounded quarters, we knew everything was 
safe. The ship we were on hit and sunk a submarine. After 
things quieted down, we went to sleep again and awakened 
next morning in sight of land. What a wonderful sight ! 

It took us fourteen days to cross and we landed in Brest, 
where we stayed for about three days. We were then sent to a 
classification camp at Saint Aignan and then left for a marine 



p. JOSEPH HOOTON 115 

camp at Chateaulin, where we renewed training. This was 
very hard, mucli more severe than anything we liad in the 
States. 

We then went to a town near the Swiss border — Coiiblanc. 
Here we had a drill field on top of one of the mountains (foot- 
hills of the Alps), which we nicknamed "Knockout Mountain." 
For the first few days, the path was so steep we had three rests 
going up. After awhile we went up without a rest, and, 
although we were in good shape, we were always glad to get to 
the end. Most of my training here was on the automatic rifle. 
Although I only qualified as a marksman on Paris Island, in 
the test at Coublanc, I made a very high average. I was 
drilled so that I became very proficient and could take the rifle 
apart and put it together again blindfolded. We spent the 
mornings on the various mechanical parts and the afternoons 
we spent shooting on the range. We were told it was both an 
honor and ver}^ dangerous to be on the crew of an automatic 
rifle. I found out that it was dangerous enough later on, as we 
were usually put in an outpost in front of the lines. It was, 
however, enjoyable in spite of the strenuous training. 

One evening after chow, assembly blew and we came out to 
the road, where we stood all formations. The top sergeant 
called the names of the ones he dubbed "the lucky gang," and 
that night the so-called lucky ones started for the front. I was 
one of them. We hiked about ten miles to Vaux and we 
boarded trains there for Meaux, about twelve miles from Cha- 
teau Thierrj^ Some distance from Meaux we climbed into 
automobile trucks, and after awhile we joined the Sixth Regi- 
ment, recently from the quiet front of Verdun. I was put in 
the 96th Company. 

I will now quote parts of a letter I wrote home describing 
my first fight. 

I suppose 3'ou know that "over the top" was only an expres- 
sion as far as we were concerned. When we went to the Cha- 
teau-Thierry sector, the French were in full retreat. On the 
way in our trucks, we passed French soldiers, and among them 
were manj^ of the most pathetic looking refugees imaginable. 
There were dog-carts piled high with all the family treasures. 
The cows and horses were laden also. Every vehicle available 



116 P. JOSEPH HOOTON 

was used to transport their valuables. One peculiar thing was, 
every family was bringing" back a mattress. They made the 
loads seem so much larger. The French people use enormous 
feather mattresses and, together with the rest of their belong- 
ings, it certainly seemed like quite a load. 

I presume if it had not been for these people we would 
probably have been considerably depressed, because we had an 
exceptional opinion of the French as fighters, and we figured if 
the}^ could not stop Heinie we, a new bunch, could never do it. 
These poor refugees made us feel differently. One of our offi- 
cers said, "We'll stop them, no matter how many of us it costs." 
This sounded like a big boast, but he was right. They were 
stopped and it did cost many a good life to stop them. 

We left our trucks and hiked quite a distance up the Paris- 
Metz road. Then we deployed or formed our line, but we 
thought there were plenty of Frogs in front of us and that Ave 
were being held in reserve. There were plenty in front of us, 
but most of them were dead. Before we had dug any kind of 
a fortification we were told that we were in the front line, and 
there was no one in front of us but Heinie. I'll never forget 
the first one I saw. He was a scout, and the way he came 
along seemed as though he never dreamt there was anyone near 
him. The chap next to me got him at a distance of about 800 
3^ards. It was really a remarkable shot. Later on ten showed 
up and we got them. 

The following morning they came over in formation. That 
was the first time we had ever fired into a body of men. All 
we had to do was to lie there and shoot as fast as we could, as 
they had been advancing very rapidly and their artillery did 
not have time to catch up to them and the only shelling was by 
their heavies. As they did not know our exact position we 
were fairly safe, because Heinie was afraid of shooting into his 
own men and, therefore, the only shells that came over were 
far to our rear. 

That night we went back at them, also the following 
morning. Talk about fright; I surely was up in the air. 
When a fellow is on the defensive he feels fairly safe behiTid 
a little pile of dirt and he can get very close to the ground 
when the bullets start to whistle over his head, but when a 



p. JOSEPH HOOTON 



117 



fellow is standing' up, going right at them, it is different. He 
can't understand why he is being missed, and, fortunately, I 
got there with the luck,y ones twice. 

It was in this scrap that we captured the town of Bouresches. 
A French expert, who was there, said we could not hold the 
town for seven hours, but we held it. The following day 
Heinie tried to take it back. Some of them did get into the 
town, but they stayed there. A burial squad took charge of 
them that night. I was put in an automatic rifle squad and we 
were in the second story of a house on the outskirts of the 




German Aeroplane Shot Down by Rifle Fire of the 5th Regi- 
ment, Marines — St. Mihiel Drive, September, 1918 



town. When they started in, all we had to do was to drop 
some hand grenades down among them. Before the day was 
over, we had to move because the house was blown to pieces. 
As the papers say, after we had repulsed a few more counter 
attacks, things quieted down a little. We were here for about 
eleven days altogether and then we were relieved. 

Our real worry was getting up chow. Water was easy to 
get because we were right in the town and there was a big 
fountain in the main square. Of course, our friends, the Ger- 
mans, would drop a few sea-bags (shells) every once in awhile 



118 P. JOSEPH HOOTON 

near the fountain, but they didn't get many of us there aiid 
never hit the well. 

Every night a detail would go back for the chow and it was 
terrible, but how good it tasted to us then, even though it Avas 
cold, sticky and greasy. Each time we could get a mess gear 
filled, it seemed to taste better than a banquet. When there 
was a lull in the fighting, we would get all the rabbits and 
chickens in town and one of the fellows would cook them. So 
we managed to exist, although eleven days on one plateful a 
day isn't the most delightful way to live. 

After eleven days here we went back a short distance in 
some woods to rest up, but after about three days a runner 
came back and told us the town had been recaptured and we 
were ordered up to retake it. We started at dawn and went in 
broad daylight. They saw us coming and got a few of us. I. 
was nearly hit; my rifle was broken. When we got near the 
town we were informed that our fellows were still in it. Some 
stayed in a patch of woods to be out of sight all that day and 
some of us were sent back on a blanket detail, and were told to. 
be back before 1 :30 the following morning, at which time we 
were to move up and take our positions again, but a few 
minutes before we started to move up, a bombardment started. 
We found that we were caught in a box barrage and the Ger- 
mans filled the space inside with mustard gas, and we stayed 
in the holes until it quieted down. One of our fellows was hit 
and another pal and I carried him back to the first aid station, 
which was about a mile away. On our way to the company, 
we met another chap who had been hit in the leg and was 
limping back, using his rifle for a crutch. All this time we 
wore gas masks and it was some job. It was a warm night and 
carrying the two injured fellows caused us to perspire. When 
we got back to the company, we were good food for tlie gas 
and I was burned quite badly. 

A strange thing happened at this time. One of our men 
had been carrying two canteens. In one of them was water 
and the other cognac, but he was not drinking it. We could 
not understand why he carried it around and not drink it. 
That night he had his heel practically blown off. As soon as 
he was hit, he drank all of the cognac and walked back to the 



p. JOSEPH HOOTON 119 



first aid station without any help. It seems almost improbable, 
but I saw him afterward in the hospital with his foot nearly off. 

Later on in the morning they took us back and gave us an 
examination, and I was sent to the hospital base No. 27, at 
Angers. 

We were among the first casuals there and were treated 
royall}'. Thej^ soon made short work of my burns and in about 
three weeks, I was allowed a liberty in town. This was the 
first big French town I had seen and it was very interesting. 
I had just about enough time on my liberties "to do the town," 
and was soon sent back to the Replacement Camp at St. Aig- 
nan. Almost as soon as I reached there, orders came through 
that all men from the First, KSecond, Twenty-sixth and Forty- 
second Divisions were to be sent back to their outfits immedi- 
ately. We, the marines, went to Chatillon and from there back 
to the company, which had been relieved four or five days 
previouslj^ Two days afterward we started for Soissons. 

Orders came to move, and when we saw the big line of 
trucks waiting, we knew something was in the air, and away we 
went. 

As the road along which we were traveling was practically 
parallel with the front line, we were under observation after 
daylight and Heinie started to shell us. The truck in front 
and the one behind the truck I was in were both hit. The 
machine to our rear received a direct hit and three fellows were 
killed and about ten injured. Several others also were hit and 
after this we dismounted. We started to hike, hike, hike, and 
it was all we did for so long, I can now recall nothing but 
hiking, without anything to eat except two sandwiches, which 
they gave us before we started, nothing to drink but one can- 
teen of water. Just coming from the hospital, this was par- 
ticularly hard on me and my water was soon finished. The 
only way I could get more was to buy it. We halted for a rest 
at cross roads and an M. P. stationed there sold me a canteen 
full for twenty-five francs. 

Some of the fellows who weren't as lucky as I, scooped 
down and drank the muddv water on the road. Eventually we 



120 P. JOSEPH HOOTON 

came to the end of our hike. They were all there, too, because 
nobody ever dropped out on a hike when we knew we were 
going to the front. 

With the exception of the two sandwiches, I had had 
nothing to eat for three days. We struck a ration dump of 
bread and sugar, where we filled in and then went on again. 
It was about 10.30 when we stopped marching and we slept in 
the woods that night until about 5.30. We were ready to go over 
at six o'clock. Then the orders were changed and we were to 
go over at nine. Meanwhile we went to sleep again until the 
appointed hour. 

''Ah, 'twas a beautiful sight," one of the generals was heard 
to remark later, and it was. As far as you could see to the 
right or left was a perfectly straight line of American soldiers 
advancing. A machine gun bullet went through my trousers, 
but missed me. My second rifle was broken in my hands by a 
piece of shrapnel and I advanced some distance without it until 
one of the fellows was hit and I got his. Shortly afterwards a 
big shell broke directly in front of me, and five fellows, two on 
one side and three on the other, were hit. I stumbled into a 
shell-hole and came through without a scratch. 

We were working with tanks in this scrap. They moved at 
a regular space and loomed up so largely in front of us that it 
was very easy for Heinie to get our range. 

As you look at a bunch of fellows advancing it is hard to 
imagine how dangerous going over the top really is. They go 
along smoking cigarettes, laughing, and judging from how 
calm everj^body is, you would imagine they were on a drill 
field. Some of our fellows had a party with Heinie at this 
time. Our corned-bill was packed in yellow cans about two 
inches high and three inches in diameter. To my left, directly 
in front of these fellows, was a few machine gun nests. One of 
the fellows would throw a can, and Heinie seeing it approach- 
ing, thought it was some kind of a grenade and would run. 
Then, the fellows would pick up the can and try it all over 
again. They claim that they cleaned out five machine gun 
nests in this way. They went back so rapidly that the real 
work was on us, for we were in the assault wave here as we 
were for the first few days in the Chateau-Thierry salient. 



p. JOSEPH HOOTON 121 

Our captain later read us a letter from General Foch com- 
mending us for never having failed to reach our objective in 
any attempt we had made. 

We crossed our objective after we had been going three 
hours, and the time set for our arrival there was eight hours 
after the zero hour or starting time. 

The Fifth Kegiment went over the day previous and was 
equally successful. 

We leaped over the P^ifth when we started and, strange as 
it may seem, quite a number of them came along with us, 
although they knew that they would soon be relieved if they 
stayed back. 

Before we went into this scrap we had over three hundred 
men in our company. W^hen we came out we had but fifty- 
two. Of course this doesn't mean they were all killed, but it 
seemed as though I was mighty lucky. 

We were relieved and started back in trucks. Later we 
took trains to Nanc}^ Part of the division stayed there and we 
hiked to Chaligny. A big munition factory was located there, 
and although we were there four nights, we had an air raid 
every night. In towns subject to air raids they have ahris, or 
caves, for the people to congregate in when Heinie comes over, 
but our pride wouldn't allow us to use them. The fact that we 
were front-line soldiers made us feel that we would be safer in 
the open, and we would go out-of-doors and look up to see if 
there were any air battles taking place. It was a beautiful 
sight. Enormous searchlights illuminated the sky, hunting for 
the planes. Anti-aircraft guns were firing all the time and 
the explosions of the shells up in the air were like so many fire- 
flies. Still the Germans would manage to get over the town 
and drop their shells. Those bombs they dropped certainly 
did raise a terrible racket. A house very close to where we 
were billeted was hit and I never saw or heard a shell that 
could be compared to it. The house was a complete ruin and 
every window in the vicinity was broken. 

We left this town, after having been replaced and filled up 
to a war strength company of two hundred and fifty men, for 
Pont-a-^Iousson. On the way, when we were getting near the 
front, we could only hike at night and we billeted in a little 



122 P. JOSEPH HOOTON 

town called Liverdun. Liverdun is built on the top of a 
mountain. A very steep road leads up to it. It is very 
strongly fortified, being the key point of a line of defense the 
French had built, in case the Germans broke through the 
existing line. Fortunately this never had to be used. 

The next night we left for Dieulouard, arriving there early 
in the morning. This town also was destroyed by air raids. One 
of the most peculiar coincidences I noticed was a fine C.athedral 
practically intact, though buildings immediately connected 
with it were levelled to the ground. Two immense aerial bombs 
were fastened to pillars in the church. There were two big 
holes in the roof where they came through but failed to ex- 
plode. I was talking to a native, who said that these were the 
only ones that struck in or near the town that did not explode. 
It was very easy to believe him by walking around. Every- 
where we looked houses were levelled to the ground. 

The next night we left, and reached Pont-a-Mousson a few 
hours later. Quite an amusing incident happened to us there. 
One of the fellows found a bag of flour in Dieulouard and we 
were going to make flap- jacks. That night orders came to 
move up. We were quite determined that we would have those 
flap- jacks, and as we knew we were going to a quiet front, we 
took the bag with us. It was about a seven-mile hike. First 
one fellow would take it, then another, and we were tempted 
many times to ditch it, but we didn't and finally reached our 
destination. 

We relieved a French division. It certainly was funny. 
All you could hear was "Finis-repose." They were sore that 
headquarters would allow Americans to come up and spoil a 
perfectly good quiet sector, for we had the reputation that the 
fronts became noisy after we got there. 

Previous to our arrival, Wednesday was French wash day, 
and Thursday was Oerman wash day. They hung their wet 
clothes on the barbed wire in "No Man's Land." That was the 
way the French fought the war on quiet fronts. 

P^'inally we were settled and the following morning started 
to make our pancakes. One fellow went for a pan, another for 
syrup and another for wood. We could not use wet or green 
wood for fear of smoke. Two of us started to mix the batter. 



p. JOSEPH HOOTON 123 



It looked good enough to eat raw. We were all set, plate was 
hot and well greased. We put the first cake on. You all know 
how a pancake gets, all full of holes when it is cooking. This 
did, too. We tried to turn it over, but it was as stiff as 
a board. All sorts of remedies were suggested. Plate too 
hot, too much soda, etc. We tried them all, but every cake we 
cooked got stiff and stuck to the plate. Finally one of the fel- 
lows woke up to the fact that we were trying to make flap- jacks 
out of plaster of paris. We surely were a sore bunch and 
were called the flap-jack kings for a long time. "Just to think 
how they would have tasted if it had been real flour," was what 
one optimist said, and we all tried to, but felt worse. 

When we came up, the French civilians moved out. These 
people had gardens and we helped ourselves to everything they 
had planted. As we were there in August, most everything 
was ready to be picked. 

We were in what is called the reserve line and we had 
nothing to do except stand a gas watch. That is, a man had to 
be awake at all times in case Heinie sent over a gas attack, or 
we were to take up our positions just outside the town if any 
activities started. Besides this, all we had to do was eat, and 
we did that alright. 

We fished, that is we took 0. F. grenades (offensive gre- 
nades) down to the Mouselle River and threw them in the 
water. The concussion would stun the fish and bring them to 
the top. Then we would swim in and get them. Fried fish 
and fried potatoes is one good meal, especially when you have 
had nothing to eat but army chow. Plums and grapes were 
other important items on our menu. The plums in particular 
were the most delicious I ever tasted. Foraging for chow was 
the hardest thing we had to do. We only had two bombard- 
ments. The first we beat Heinie to it, because he knew we were 
coming in and he sent us a welcome. We were in about 
twenty minutes before he opened up. A few days later there 
was a little raid that our fellows beat back without any 
difficulty. 

The night we were relieved, Heinie sent over a little fare- 
well party and again he was too late, as we left about an hour 
before he started. The men who relieved us, the Eighty- 



124 P. JOSEPH HOOTON 

second Division, came up in a train and were there sooner than 
he expected. This gave us an early start. The hike was a 
record, considering- that we were going back. We started 
about nine o'clock and the following afternoon at two we 
reached our destination. We were all in. 

We stayed in the town of Maron about two days and then 
went to a little place called Autreville. This was almost a 
real home. Eight of us were billeted in a house with a Mon- 
sieur Simonen and his wife and daughter. They had two sons 
in the army and the madame was very thoughtful. She 
washed our clothes and when we would have to stand a watch 
she had hot coffee on the fire for us when we came in. AVe 
stayed in this place about two weeks, and when we left we felt 
almost as though we were leaving home. The madame had us 
drink a glass of hot coffee with rum and she then kissed us 
good-bye. As it was dark we could not see her, but when I 
kissed her I knew she was crying. She was a very tine woman 
and we were thankful to her for the many little comforts to 
which she helped us. 

This was all in the early part of September and we were 
still on our way to the Saint Miehiel drive. We hiked by 
night and slept in the woods by day. After a week of this 
life, we stayed in a woods for about three days. It had been 
raining most all the time since we left Autreville and we were 
soaked through. We were accustomed to this, however. The 
night when we were on our way to take up our position we 
experienced the worst storm. It was pitch dark. It was all 
we could do to look for the fellow in front. We put a white 
rag on our back so the fellow behind could see us. We went 
on until early morning, when we filed into a communication 
trench, which we were told would be our position for the 
attack. Then came that terrible bombardment. It began 
promptly at midnight. To look around, the sky seemed red. 
So many guns were firing that the roar, although they were 
behind us and even though we were quite accustomed to gun- 
fire, was deafening. I never heard anything like it before, and 
all the time Heinie kept quiet and we speculated that when he 
did open up, it would be a big one and were surprised when he 
kept quiet. When daylight came we found we were back in 



p. JOSEPH HOOTON 



125 



reserve. In fact, so far back that we hardl}^ felt in the scrap 
at all. 

We jumped off at a little town called Limey, and the first 
day we had advanced beyond our objective, capturing Thia- 
court. We established positions about two miles beyond the 
town. The marines then relieved the doughboys and we 
started the attack. 

The first battalion in front, the second (my company) 
about a quarter mile behind them. During the night our 
Major become confused by the new roads the Germans had 
built and at dawn we found ourselves between Heinle's front 
and second lines. There was nothing for us to do but go 




Bridge Over Marne River at Chateau Thierry — Blown up by 
Americans to Check German Drive 



ahead and leave his front line to the battalion behind us. We 
had some tough scrapping through a very thick woods and we 
lost a good many men, but we pushed them back and took up 
our position at the edge of the wood, awaiting further orders. 
Talk about mixed-up affairs. There are four complete com- 
panies to a battalion and the Seventy-eighth, Seventy-ninth, 
Eightieth and Ninety-sixth Companies made up the Second 
Battalion. There were fellows from every compan}^ beside one 
another. Usually what was left of a squad were together. 
In cases like mine only two of us were left of the squad I was 
in, so we mixed up with the rest and were satisfied. We 
pushed Heinie back again till we felt like stopping, repulsed 



126 P. JOSEPH HOOTON 

three counters and had fine positions. If lie felt like coming* 
over any more we were fairly content to let him come. The 
same afternoon about five o'clock, an officer detailed four of 
us to guide the relief in, and we started for Thiaucourt, where 
Regimental Headquarters had been established. 

After a full meal and a little nap we started back. Each 
of us took a company of the Third Battalion of a regiment in 
the Seventy-eighth Division. This was the first time these fel- 
lows had been under fire. They had their nerve with them. 
Of course they were a little frightened by the shell fire, 
and when a shell would come over they would drop, so that 
the only way to keep them together was on the double. I cut 
across country with my gang and hit it up. They got in the 
position almost without difficulty and we were relieved then. 
Altogether we had very few casualties. In fact, when we got 
back there were more men in my company than there were in 
the entire battalion, when we were relieved at Soissons in 
Jul}^ This time we thought we were going back for a rest, 
because we went very leisurely. We went to Charmes-la-Cote, 
where we billeted for a few days. 

From Charmes-la-Cote we entrained for a town near Cha- 
lons-Sur-Marne, where I had a liberty and met a fellow from 
Philadelphia. He was a truck driver and was going to Rheims 
in a ration convoy. He asked me to go along and I took the 
chance. I saw the Cathedral, which, although shattered, was 
still very beautiful. The M. P.'s there wouldn't allow us to 
enter. We met a mademoiselle who led us by a ver}'- circular 
path finally through a tunnel which connected the priest's 
house with the Cathedral and we wound up inside of the 
Cathedral. Wonderful is the only word I can use to express 
my thoughts of this cathedral, even though the French had 
moved everything they could and the Germans had blown the 
rest of it away. 

Upon leaving Rheims we started for Epernay. I was 
beginning to get nervous for fear the company would leave, 
but we stayed for only a short time and started back to Cha- 
lons I arrived in camp just when they were leaving. I 
packed up and caught the Camion (auto truck) at the end of 
the column and away we went. 



p. JOSEPH HOOTON 127 



Later we were told that we were bound for the Argonne, 
but the French General Guerard, in charge of the French 
army, had requested that we support the division attacking 
Mont-Blanc. We left the trucks in a town of which I never 
learned the name, and filed up through it. We hiked until we 
came to an enormous communicating trench dug in white sand- 
stone. This was on the Champagne front to the left of the 
Argonne woods. It rained all the time during the three days 
we lay in this trench and we were one sad looking bunch. We 
looked as though we had been whitewashed, but later we were 
glad of it, as we were camouflaged. 

The first morning we were all awakened and we heard a 
barrage start. We took it for granted we were to go over and 
we began cleaning rifles. Later we found the French in front 
of us were going to take the mountain ahead. We congratu- 
lated ourselves that we did not have to do it. I had a pair of 
German field glasses I had found, through which we could see 
them going up. After awhile the Germans countered and 
drove them back. That night they tried it again. In fact 
they tried it seven times in all and were driven back each 
time. Then we were ordered up to do it. When our Major 
looked it over, he decided to change the line of attack and we 
went up one night expecting to go over. 

I was in an outpost in charge of two automatic rifles when 
the barrage started. As soon as the artillery opened up so did 
we, expecting to see the fellows come up, but later a runner 
crawled out to tell us to cease firing, as the orders had been 
changed. We had revealed our position. All day Heinie 
sure did put them over in that shell-hole, but we fooled him, 
as we moved to another. 

That evening a runner came out to us and told us to ad- 
vance at 7.30. The men were to go at 7.35. Our barrage 
started about 7.15. We crawled and crept along until we 
heard them start. We then dropped into a hole and cut loose 
until they caught up. Then we advanced with them about 
one mile and took up new positions, and finally reached our 
objective half way up the mountain. The fighting here had 
been very severe. The French and Germans had fought over 



128 P. JOSEPH HOOTON 

this ground seven times and dead were lying around every- 
where you looked. 

The trench we took was so littered with dead that we had 
to throw the bodies out to make room for ourselves. We 
stayed there that night and at dawn we went over again. 

All the fellows were good sports. A chap, on one of my 
guns, had three fingers shot off. As we were in the outpost, 
there was no way to send him back. "We bandaged him up as 
best we could and all that he said was, "What time is it?" 
That chap went over with us and I became separated from him 
in the rush. When we got there I looked around, but could 
not see him, and took for granted that he went to the rear to 
the hospital. But such was not the case, as the following day 
I saw him again. He was going ahead with the rest of them, 
piece slung over his shoulder, smoking a cigarette and acting 
as calmly as though he were on a picnic. I told one of the offi- 
cers about him and he ordered him to fall back, but the chap 
went on ahead. He said he was as well off in one place as 
another and he was determined to see it through. He came 
back on the same boat with me with a thumb and an index 
finger on his left hand. 

Shortly after we reached our objective, a Heinie came 
whistling along on a bicycle. We kept quiet until he was 
passing, when one of the fellows shot his tire. There never 
was such a frightened man. As he was a runner, they got 
some valuable papers from him. Sometime afterwards some 
German cavalry, the first German cavalry I had seen, came up 
the road. We turned around and ambushed them. That was 
a terrible shooting match and but a few of them are alive now. 
Behind the banks of the road we took up positions and pushed 
Heinie back twice with the help of our four tanks. Tanks are 
fine, but they do cause a lot of shell fire and a good many 
fellows, who happened to be near them, got their share. 

We had taken quite a number of prisoners, and while T was 
digging my dugout one of the sergeants came over and told me 
there was no sense of digging dugouts when all the prisoners 
were standing by. I went and looked them over and there 
was one standing apart from the others. I told him to come 
over. He evidently knew what I wanted and he snapped his 



p. JOSEPH HOOTON 



129 



heels together and flapped his hands down along' his trouser 
seams, saying, "Ich bin ein Lieutenant." I informed him that 
it mattered not to me if he were the Kaiser, and started toward 
him with the point of my bayonet. It was then that he 
decided to come. He turned out to be a good worker, as he 
dug a nice deep, wide hole. Then Heinie started over again 
and we hustled them to the rear and began plugging at the 
ones coming toward us. 

We drove them back to their holes again. Although we 
had advanced quite rapidly, the, French on our left were slow 




German Caisson Hit by a Well Directed Shell From 

American Artillery — St. Mihiel Drive, 

September, 1918 



and our compan}^ was the extreme left of the attack, and 
within about a hundred yards of where I was, our line ended. 
We were waiting for the French to come up. Heinie was all 
along there and started to attack us from the side and front, 
spreading out fan shape to our rear, and it began to look 
pretty serious for awhile. But one of our support battalions 
came up and spread out and took care of those to our rear and 
left while we walloped those in front of us again. We had 
been replaced just before going into this front and the 
marine's green uniforms resembled the German's very much. 



130 P. JOSEPH HOOTON 

I saw one coming up the road and it turned out to be one of 
our fellows. I told him it was very dangerous there and to 
keep down. He came over to me and climbed in my dugout. 
The Germans saw him and shelled us, killed him and knocked 
me out. The next thing I knew I was in an ambulance and 
it was very dark. I must have been unconscious for a long 
time, because it was about noon when this happened, I think. 

We were being bounced around the shell-rutted road when 
we heard a shell come over. Gee, it sounded as though it were 
coming right over me. The driver gave his Lizzie all she 
would take and that shell went whang about ten or fifteen 
feet behind us. Pieces of shrapnel flew everywhere, but we 
kept on going, so I knew the machine was in good shape, and 
as we kept on the road, I knew also that the chauffeur was al- 
right. Eventually we arrived at the field hospital. There we 
were bathed and sent back. This time I was in pretty good 
shape, with only a little cut on the face and one in my leg. 
A little further back was another hospital, where the}^ oper- 
ated on me, fixing up my face, and I was sent on the next train 
to Paris. 

Oh, how nice and soft those beds felt. It was only about 
two weeks before I could get out of bed and go out to see the 
sights. 

We were in a suburb of Paris, Bellevue by name. This was 
a Gas Hospital and we G. S. W. (gun-shot wounds) patients 
lived the life of Reilly. I was able to get but one pass, be- 
cause the time I did get it I went to Versailles and it took so 
long to see the sights that I was four hours late on my pass, 
and they would not allow me to go out again. 

A short time later we, the G. S. W. patients, were sent to 
another hospital, a convalescent base at (Uignancourt, along 
the northern wall of Paris, and I stayed here until I was 
invalided home. 

Paris is one wonderful city and T believe T saw everything 
worth while as I had a pass every night and also dui'ing the 
day while at l^ase No. 85. 

George Coulter will tell us about Paris, as while I was there 
the valuable objects of art were covered with sand bags to 
protect them from Big Bertha. 



p. JOSEPH HOOTON 131 



I was there on November 11, 1918, the day the armistice 
was signed. Oh, it was a grand and gh)rious feeling to know 
that I was alive and the war over. Eight of us boys went out 
to celebrate, but I guess the less I say about the celebration the 
better it will be. 

One of the first things we did was to go out and get an 
American fiag. I won't say where or how we got it, but we 
got it anyhow. Then in squad formation we started out. A 
big rawboned white horse, almost ready to die, caught our eye, 
and when we saw the two wheeled cart he was pulling, with 
one bale of hay in it, we knew it belonged to us and we drove 
it up the Rue-de-Italien, cheering and singing for all we 
were worth. Much to our disappointment no one noticed us, 
as everybody was doing something himself. After awliile we 
passed the ^ladeleine. The steps leading up to the entrance 
are very long and built on the order of our Custom House. 
They were crowded with people, and we knew we would have 
to go up there to go through the crowd. With one of the fel- 
lows on our shoulders, and he waving the flag, we started up. 
How those people did cheer the flag. At the top of the steps 
we sang "The Star Spangled Banner," ''America," "The Mar- 
seillaise" and, the most important in our minds, the "Marine 
Hymn." The people joined us and cheered them all, even the 
"JNIarine Hymn" that no one knew, but I believe we made more 
noise singing it than they did when they helped us sing the 
"Marseillaise." A priest came out and put us off the steps, as 
he said we were interrupting the services inside. 

We then went to the theatre and had dinner with a French 
family. We surely had one wonderful day, filled with so 
many things that I can't remember them all. 

A short time after the signing of the armistice, we were 
evacuated to Blois, a classification camp, 

I stayed there for two ^^'eeks and on January 1, 1919, I was 
put in a casual company on m.y way home. 

We left for Saint Nazaire, and after being quarantined 
here for ten days, left on the "Princess Matoyka." One thing 
I'll never cease to regret is that Tom Hansen was at St. Na- 
zaire for about two weeks, the same time I was, and I never 
saw him. 



132 P. JOSEPH HOOTON 

The voyage back was quite different, from the one going 
over. AYe were allowed to smoke on deck at night. AVe knew 
we were not going to be torpedoed before we arrived and all 
that kind of stuff that makes a fellow uneasy. 

AYe landed in the United States on February 11, 1919. 

A few days later I was on my way to Philadelphia with a 

thirty-day furlough, ready to greet you all, expecting the 
same old welcome that is given everyone who comes in the door 
at 1216 Arch Street. One of the tirst things that was done for 
me, after I returned, was to present me Avith a photograph of 
the Bronze Tablet or Honor Boll for the boys who went to 
war. I certainly appreciated it. 

Now that it is all over, I feel that I have done my duty 
and am glad that I went away, proud of what was done ami 
more than proud to be back among you once more. 

P. Joseph Hooton. 






£et<_. 



RALPH H. KEEN 



II WAS inducted into the service on March 11, 1918, and 
sent to Camp Meade, Md., assigned to Co. 31, 8th Bat- 
ggggj talion, 154th Depot Brigade, and transferred March 
29th to Co. 16, 8th Battalion, of the same brigade. 

Upon arriving in camp in the evening I was fortunate in 
finding, in the same company, one of our co-workers, James 
Fitzgerald, who arrived just prior to myself. This luck was 
soon succeeded by misfortune, for having got there too late 
for supper the cook hurriedl}^ prepared some beefsteak and 
coffee, and I was initiated by drawing a portion of steak that 
my knife would not cut. The first meal, therefore, consisted 
of dry bread and coffee. This is not intended as a complaint 
in general about the eats, because thereafter my luck was bet- 
ter and the "chow," though very plain, was plentiful and of 
substantial qualit}^ The scientific rationing of food, together 
with the work, drills, exercises and fresh air and the regularity 
of the life were very beneficial physically. 

I was promoted several times, once to the rank of room 
orderly. The chief duty of this office was to push a broom, 
and for one day I held the exalted position known as "K. P." 
After these advancements, and particularly^ the last one, my 
aspirations to higher rank were ended and I was contented to 
})e an ordinary private. 

The utter simplicit}^ of camp life was in great contrast to 
our mode of living at home. It would never have seemed 
possible that men could live and thrive with life so devoid of 
the many comforts and conveniences which at home are con- 
sidered necessities. 

The attitude of the men toward each other was wonder- 
fully democratic. ^Fen of all stations in life and of every 

(133) 



134 RALPH H. KEEN 



nationality and creed were there, all mixed togetlier and living 
in harmony. 

The Depot Brigade was a sort of clearing honse to which 
all the recruits were sent, and after spending several weeks 
there, during which time they were taught discipline and the 
rudiments of military drill, they were dispatched to their 
regular outfits in groups of from five or ten up to several hun- 
dred at a time, according to the quota required to bring to full 
strength the organization to which they were sent. Some 
went to regiments forming right in Camp Meade, some to 
other camps throughout the country, and others went directly 
overseas. As fast as these men went out there were others 
coming in endless procession to fill their places for a short 
while until, as if by a great machine, they too would be 
sifted and sorted and assigned to the branch of service to 
which they were best fitted. 

The Y. M. C. A. hall was a bright spot in camp, and it was 
here that I spent most of my leisure time between retreat and 
taps. It was always bright and cheerful, with a victrola, 
games, books and periodicals, besides which they had either 
movies, lectures, boxing bouts or entertainments several times 
a week, and services on Sundays. 

After three physical examinations it was my lot to be re- 
jected, and I was discharged April 8, 1919. 

Ralph II. Keen. 




JOHN H. KENDLE, JR. 



EPTEMBER 23, 1917. On this memorable day I left 

Pliiladelphia for Camp Meade with thousands of 

other boys. It will be a day long' to be remembered. 

We left North Philadelphia around ten o'clock, and it 

seemed as if every citizen of Philadelphia was at the station to 

see us off. 

We arrived at Camp Meade around three-thirty, and after 
being moved about half a dozen times in camp, I was perma- 
nently assigned to the 304th IMilitary Police, a most interesting 
branch of the service. Those who visited the camp will remem- 
ber that exterior guard duty was performed by this organi- 
zation, and the Military Police were frequently assigned to 
dut}" in the larger cities. Traffic dut}^ in the cantonments was 
also included in this branch of the service. 

In conjunction with our guard duty, an intensive course of 
training in infantry, cavalry, rifle and pistol practice (not 
failing to mention the famous monkey drill) was also included 
in our roster, and we were kept very busy from Monday 
morning until Saturday noon, when, after passing a rigid in- 
spection, we sometimes received a much coveted thirty-six 
hour pass. On one occasion I thought I had earned a leave 
for several days, but upon approaching the captain, was 
informed that passes were "privileges" and not "rights." 
Later, in compiling reports, it was learned that the captains 
were very stingy with passes which were rightfully ours. 

Spending the severe Winter and Spring of 1918 in camp, 
the early Summer found us preparing to make our little trip 
across, to share in the victory which we knew would be brought 
about by American efforts. 

On July 8th, we left Camp Meade, arriving at the port of 
embarkation (Iloboken) on the following morning, and on the 

(135) 



136 JOHN H. KENDLE, JR. 

10th, we sailed on the British transport ''Toloa." We had a 
most enjoyable trip. During the twelve days at sea we tried 
everything, sleeping in hammocks, on tables and finallj^ on the 
floor. Our barracks were now behind us, and we were begin- 
ning to realize that Sherman was about right. However, we 
were soon across, and then had dreams of a beautiful rest 
camp at Brest, our port of debarkation, but disappointments 
were coming thick and fast, and we soon discovered that our 
rest would be in pup tents, near the old Pontanezzen Barracks. 
After several days of resting, we started our journey inland, 
reaching the camp at Is-sur-Tille three days later. This was 
a large, or rather, the largest supply base of the American 
army, and the rapidity of its construction somewhat startled 
and dazzled the French, a camp and over 300 miles of rail 
having been laid in one month. 

Receiving orders at this point, we proceeded to the Tenth 
Training Area, and in connection with intensive training, 
attended to the police and traffic duties in the villages occupied 
by the units of the Seventy-ninth Division. 

Early in September it was rumored that we would soon be 
in action, and by the 15th of the month, had relieved the 
French Division in the Avocourt sector, or the key to Mount- 
f aucon. It was indeed quiet when we relieved the French, but 
it was not quiet long. Great preparations were being made, 
all of which were brought forward during the nights. We 
worked from sunset until dawn, parking artillery, and finding 
woods for the various companies of infantry as they proceeded 
on their way to the front. 

I had been detailed with the loSth Brigade, and on this 
occasion was with the 315th Infantry. Several mishaps 
marred the advance of this organization. 

Suspecting that the roads would be crowded, an enemy 
aeroplane came over and succeeded in dropping a few bombs 
in our ranks, causing quite a few casualties, killing several. 

Later, an ofificer of high command doubted the information 
we had given him regarding directions, and, with his map in- 
verted, marched his troops up a wrong road, and on discover- 
ing his mistake ordered a detour and soon had a most wonder- 
ful congestion of traffic, as troops, supplies, and artiller}- were 



JOHN H. KENDLE, JR. 



137 



all moving" in one direction, with an obstinate colonel tryino; 
to again get his troop in proper line of march. 

Here is where the M. P. gains his awful reputation. 
Having only a few hours before dawn, and, as it was necessary 
for all troops, supplies, etc., to be under cover by morning, no 
resting could be permitted. Policing over six miles in side 
cars, all troops were kept moving until the last company had 
finall}^ found shelter in the woods of Bethelainville. 

The following day was spent in building a prison cage, for 
we felt that some time in the near future we might have 
occasion to use it, and we were not wrong in our calculations, 



nri I. A aiiA.Xh/: r.i n:i'.i: ibi4-5 8 - hoMirxsi.t,^ 

Kuin.s .Ir }.; }),„■ i„u,.n,,-,lr 




Principal Street in Dombasles in Ruins 

for the very next morning our drive started, which wrested 
from the Boche the strongly fortified position of Mountfaucon, 
placing in the American possession the key to the door of 
victor3^ 

The drive started on September 26th, and the first two 
days of advance were made comparatively easy by the sup- 
port of over nine hundred pieces of artillery. And then the 
advance ! The infantry had gone ahead of schedule and it 
was not long before they were beyond their range of the artil- 
lery supporting them, hence it became necessary to move as 
much artillery as possible, and the task of placing the cannon 
in the column going forward was quite a difficult one. 



138 JOHN H. KENDLE, JR. 

The roads had been shelled heavily by both sides and traffic 
moved at the rate of approximately a mile an hour. Large 
army trucks, loaded with supplies, became fast in the mud, or, 
in their efforts to plow ahead, dug* their rear wheels into the 
ground until it would be impossible to move one waj' or the 
other. They had, therefore, to be unloaded and turned on 
their side, thus allowing the column to move ahead to points 
where the supplies which they carried were exchanged for 
wounded soldiers on their way to hospitals in the rear. 

The first three days of the drive I was detailed to keep 
traffic moving, and in that time I worked my way to the foot 
of Mountfaucon. The town had been evacuated by the Ger- 
mans, but it was fully another day before we finally took 
possession of it. The town is built on the top of a small mount, 
and what was once known as "the little Gibraltar of Germany" 
is now a mass of ruins. 

A battery of colored artillery moved into position just a 
day before we were relieved, and there was one darky who 
believed that ever}^ time he pulled the string he made a bull's- 
eye. As his projectile would go sailing through the air, he 
would say, with a real Louisiana smile, "Now, Kaiser, count 
your men." 

Incidentally, I might mention that we received mail on the 
third day of the drive. 

Just west of Mountfaucon, on the side of Fayal Farm, on 
the 28th, a field hospital was established, the same being less 
than one hundred yards from my post. Large insignia of the 
Red Cross were painted on the top of the tents and could 
easily be distinguished by any air craft which might pass 
overhead. Sometimes, however, in some cases, it does not pay 
to advertise. During the day there had been considerable 
aerial activity and the ]-^oche, on their initial trip, had suc- 
ceeded in bringing down three (out of four) of our sausage 
balloons used by the observers. They returned amid a shrap- 
nel barrage, and were lucky enough to get behind German 
lines unharmed. During this fiight one of them must have 
noticed the Red Cross insignia and reported it, for in the 
afternoon several Boche planes came over, circled overhead, 
taking photographs, while our anti-aircraft was making frantic 



JOHN H. KENDLE, JR. 139 

efforts to drive them back, but was unsuccessful, and the Boche 
airmen finished their mission. The heavy artillery of Ger- 
man}', stationed at Romang-e, deliberately shelled the hospital. 
Shells came thick and fast in all directions, two shots directly 
hitting the hospital, after which the men who were in the hos- 
pital had to be moved to a place of safety, and the suffering', 
along' with the moans of the wounded men, will long be remem- 
bered b}' those who were in the tent that afternoon. Several 
wounded prisoners were killed bj^ this act of kultur. 

^lountfaucon had been the objective of the Seventy-ninth 
Division, but having reached there two da3^s ahead of schedule, 
the division continued until the town of Nantillois had been 
captured. Had the French taken Mountfaucon, I am certain 
they would have celebrated the victory by several da3"s of 
resting. 

Weary and tired, the news that we would be relieved the 
following morning acted as a wonderful tonic, and for the 
first time in a week, three of us unrolled our packs and had 
tent accommodations for the night. Prior to that night we had 
been sleeping like animals along the side of the road. 

The following night found us well out of the range of the 
enemy's guns and visions of a rest camp loomed up like a 
mountain. Three days found us still on the march, and on 
the fourth night we could faintly hear the roar of the guns, 
and it was only then that we realized we had been transferred 
to another sector. 

Several days later we had completely relieved the Twenty- 
sixth Division, or the National Guards of Massachusetts, on 
the St. Mihiel front. Division Headquarters were established 
at Troyon, and the following day I was detailed with the 157th 
Brigade. This was indeed a quiet sector until the night the 
last battery of the Twenty-sixth Division artillery was re- 
lieved. Somehow the news fell into the hands of the enem^^ 
and he seemingly knew as much of the movement as we did. 
Hardh' had the first piece passed through our town when a 
big one came sizzling over, breaking almost over our heads. A 
doorway of an old building was my only protection. The 
artillery suffered several casualties, but they were exception- 
ally few in comparison with the bombardments. 



140 JOHN H. KENDLE, JR. 

The following- evening was quiet, but I had not forgotten 
our experience of the previous night, and was looking about 
in the dark for material to construct a sentry box, and I 
found it, too. Two large sheets of elephant iron, about seven 
feet long and four feet wide, lay on the ground opposite the 
crossroads. I thought these would be just fine and all that 
I needed was help to move them. Soon my relief came along 
and we started to place them in position. I had taken the back 
end of one of the sheets, my comrade taking the front. One, 
two, three, up she goes from the ground, and together we 
started to walk away. One, two, — and on the third step I 
took, instead of walking on solid ground, I stepped into a well 



<> 



>1 





Advance Headquarters of General Pershing — Souilly, France 

about thirty feet deep, containing about five feet of water. At 
that time, six feet of height came in hand3^ "Hey, Avhere did 
you gof was the first thing I heard after reaching the bottom. 
Evidently, I was being classed as a deserter, but when my 
buddy learned of my condition, he told me to keep quiet while 
he went for help. A light scaffolding enabled me to climb 
where I could reach the hands offered to me, and T finally came 
up thoroughly drenched. Wet and cold, I searched around 
half hour for clothes and finally succeeded in finding a com- 
plete change. On examining the well the next morning, we 
discovered that it had been built with the intention of blowing 
up the crossroads in case of retreat, but here, as in jnany 
cases, their retreat was made in great haste. 



JOHN H. KENDLE, JR. 141 

We remained in this area several weeks, just holding- the 
line, although gas attacks and night raids were frequently 
made. 

The latter part of October found the division on the march 
again and on this occasion I was detailed with the 314th In- 
fa.ntry. For five successive nights we marched, making from 
twelve to twent}^ miles per night, hiking from sunset until sun- 
rise, snatching naps in the daytime between meals. 

Speaking of meals, we usually received two a day, and the 
rolling kitchens worked faithfully, and in all cases proved very 
satisfactory. 

During the afternoon of October 29th, I again witnessed a 
thrilling aeroplane fight. Two enemy planes were engaged in 
a combat with an equal number of American planes and were 
giving a fine aerial exhibition. Anti-aircraft played an im- 
portant part in this engagement and succeeded in shooting 
the wing from a Boche plane, which brought it down to earth 
like a crippled canar}^ On seeing their comrades' fate, the 
airmen in the second plane made for the German lines, 
reaching there safely. 

The following day I received an order to report to the 315th 
Headquarters, the same being stationed at Molleville Farm. 

Advancing at this time was not as easy as it had been 
previously, and while our first experience had been that of a 
drive, and holding' the line on the second front, the third 
brought us face to face with a real battle. At times ad- 
vancing was made at terrible cost, and very often not as 
scheduled. Here there was a steady bombardment for a week, 
the worst day being that of November 9th. Battalion tabu- 
lation reported that an average of fifty-six shells fell a minute 
within a radius of two hundred yards. Our particular dugout 
was hit five times, and its concrete construction was our only 
salvation. 

This was the last big barrage that we encountered, after 
that the defense of the enemy being made with machine guns, 
and I might add that the}' had plenty of them. 



142 JOHN H. KENDLE, JR. 

We advanced about five miles and moved our examining 
post to the town of Etraye. The original order called for the 

town of Damvillers, but at that time it was still in German 
possession, possibly they may have wanted the M. P.'s to con- 
duct the German retreat. 

While in Etraye we had quite a number of prisoners to 
examine, and it was from these that we learned a cessation of 
liostilities was near, but we received the news with little 
enthusiasm, thinking at that time it was another form of 
propaganda. However, as we all know, it was true, and on the 
morning of November 11th, at 11 A. M., just bej'ond the town 
of Etraye, we hoisted a victorious American flag, shouting and 
rallying around it as only Americans can. Surely it was a 
great day and later, when reading of the wonderful celebration 
here at home, I could not believe that the home demonstration 
was more joyous than ours. It seemed unbelievable that one 
could walk without fear of machine gun bullets or bursting 
shrapnel. 

On the 12tli we moved into the town of Damvillers, which 
had been occupied by the Germans during the entire war. 
The streets were marked with German signs, and for the 
amusement of the soldiers, a theatre and moving picture house 
had been built. It was in the latter that we held a memorial 
service for those who had fallen in the last days of the war. 

The next big problem we faced after the cessation of hos- 
tilities was the caring for the repatriated civilians and prison- 
ers of war. From these fellows we learned many pitiful 
stories, and in many cases their condition verified their 
statements. 

Thousands came straggling through our lines, having all 
their earthly possessions on their backs in boxes, bags or push 
carts. All nationalities were represented, and no doubt man}' 
of them are today telling how they traded souvenirs with the 
American soldiers for a can of meat or a loaf of bread. The 
Russian prisoners were knocked about the worst, not having 
a government behind them, they were much like a man without 
a country, receiving most consideration from the Americans. 



JOHN H. KENDLE. JR. 143 

From Damvillers we retraced our steps, going back to the 
towns in and around Verdun and remaining in this section 
until the first of the year. 

I was granted two leaves, or vacations, the first being in 
the latter part of December, when I went to Aix-les-Hains, a 
beautiful French summer resort, which at that time had been 
taken over b}" the Government as a leave area. Here, for tlie 
time being, we forgot that we were soldiers and moved about 
with all the freedom of a civilian, and while there, the army 
was really ideal. 

Again in May I received a pass to Paris, and spent five 
da^^s there sight seeing, after which I joined my organization. 

Travel to the port was made by foot, auto and rail, and on 
May 16th we reached the town of St. Nazairo. Here final 
preparations were made and we were soon ready to start on our 
journey home. The passenger list had been made and passed 
by the port officials, and we received word to be in condition to 
embark on the U. S. Steamship ''Dakotan." 

It was a merry company of men that marched through the 
streets of St. Nazaire that morning, for we were really home- 
ward bound. At 1.30, on the afternoon of the 16th, the big 
transport left the dock loaded with American soldiers, who 
were in all probability leaving France with few regrets. 

The first few days at sea were fine, but our speed was 
lessened by a terrific storm which lasted three days, and 
despite the fact that many were sick, there was lots of fun in 
the crowd for the very good reason that we were coming home. 
Several days before landing the Captain received an order to 
dock at Philadelphia instead of New York as originally 
planned. ]\lore joy, as the greater portion of the men were 
from the Quaker City and we had an idea of the welcome we 
would receive. 

On the morning of May 28th, 8.30 A.IM., land was sighted 
and b\' noon we had passed Cape ]\Iay. Several hours later 
found us well up the river, which was crowded with boats of 
all sizes, all of which had come down to greet us. Locomotive 
and factory whistles and sirens joined the celebration which 
had surpassed all of our previous ones. By five o'clock we 



144 JOHN H. KENDLE, JR. 

had docked, and after spending a few minutes with parents 
and friends on the pier, we were whisked away to Camp Dix. 

On June 5, 1919, exactly two years from my registration 
day, I was discharged from the army, to again enjoy freedom, 
privileges, protection and opportunities which this country 
offers to its citizens. 

John H. Kendle, Jr. 





PHOTO BY BACHRACH 



\<Ji^i. 



je4«X.ft^ 




WESLEY L. KETTERER 



XI WAS inducted into the service and left Philadelphia on 
September 23, 1917, for Camp Meade, Md., where I 
ggggj remained until October 15th, when our company was 
sent to Camp Gordon, Ga., about seven miles from 
Atlanta, and here I was assigned to the 320th ]\Iachine Gun 
Battalion, Eighty-second Division. I can only recall while 
here, six months of hard work and a few week-end trips to 
Atlanta, and also many packages of good things to eat which I 
received from the folks at home, for which I was very grateful. 

On April 10, 1918, we were on our way to Camp Upton, 
L. I. While there we were g:iven additional equipment and on 
the 23d, boarded the 11. M. S. "Caronia." We were at last on 
our way to that great war which we had heard so much about. 

What happened to me ''over there" is told in the following 
letter which I sent to my father on "Dad's Day:" 

"Bourges, France, Nov. 15, 1918. 

''I understand that the censor has become more lenient, so 
in my 'Christmas Letter to Dad,' 1 am going to let you know, as 
well as I can remember, just what has happened to me since I 
left the States. 

"We were ferried from Brooklyn to the foot of Twenty- 
third St., N. Y., on the 24th of April and quietly went aboard 
the II. M. S 'Caronia.' This ship had just made a voyage to 
southern Europe and in addition to having 4500 U. S. soldiers 
aboard, there were quite a few Hindus, whose company was 
not very desirable. On the morning of the 25th, we pulled 

(145) 



146 WESLEY L. KETTERER 

out of the dock. No one was allowed on the deck, port holes 
were sealed and not opened until we were well outside when 
I took one more look at the 'Statue of Liberty' (a thrill that 
comes once in a lifetime) . We were leaving- the land of plenty 
and how well the greater part of us realized it. 

"We immediately picked up a British cruiser which con- 
voyed us all the way over. There were fourteen ships in all, 
the cruiser maintaining a position well in front. Every 
morning just as soon as we got up, the first thing that we did 
was to see if 'Mother' was still with us. No one knew the 
name of the cruiser, so she became 'Mother' to us. Every time 
a ship was sighted, sirens would blow, signals flash and in fact 
there was an awful racket until its identity was ascertained. 

"We were always on the lookout for subs and really 
expected trouble, as this was right after Secretary Baker 
announced a general speeding up of all troops to France. 
Nothing happened until we were in the Irish Sea, off the coast 
of Scotland. I was sleeping in a hammock bin at the time and 
all at once the ship trembled like a leaf. You know what kind 
of a sleeper I am, well, I never snapped out of anything so 
fast before. I arrived on deck in time to see one of the ships 
(an auxiliary cruiser) take another shot. We saw a spar 
float away, probably a collapsible wireless tower, and everyone 
believed that we had got one and perhaps two, but I never felt 
sure until sometime later when we read an official account of 
the affair in the 'London Mail,' in which they stated a sub was 
sent to Davey Jones' locker. 

"I had a position of advantage on one of the rope ladders, 
which was against the rules, but owing to the excitement I had 
forgotten. I was promptly 'bawled out' by the Major General 
of our division, who was on the bridge at the time. He said 
something about 'a sergeant should know better' and a lot of 
other things. It did not take me long to get down. He 
outranked me. It was a depth bomb that gave our ship such a 
shaking up, which had been laid down by one of the little sub- 



WESLEY L. KETTERER 



147 



cihasers. Tliat reminds me— about two days out of Liverpool, 
one of the fellows came running downstairs and yelled, 'Ho, 
fellows, .Mother has kittens.' AVe all went up and there were 
twelve of these little sub-chasers, playing all around us. They 
did look like a lot of kittens. 

"We only had two days of rough weather on the way over, 
but that was plenty. I was bleary-eyed two or three times, 
but managed to control myself somehow. Half the men aboard 
the ship were sick and it surely was awful. AVe were packed 
in like sardines and the food we received was absolutely rotten. 




Barbed Wire Entanglement on the Heights of the Meuse, Near 

Poivre, France 

Most of it went out the port holes, and if it were not for our 
mess fund and what we were able to buy at the canteen, we 
would have been 'out of luck' for sure. They say all the 
British ships were alike. 

"AVe finally docked in the Alersey River, Liverpool, and 
pulled up along one of the many great docks there. The first 
thing that attracted our attention was a big pile of 16-inch 
shells and a lot of English soldiers walking around on 
crutches. Quite a reception, eh? Owing to the character of 
the food, crowded conditions and the fact that the ship had 



148 WESLEY L. KETTERER 

previously made a trip to India, there was plenty of sickness 
aboard. We were immediately sent to a Quarantine Camp at 
Romsey and remained there two weeks and almost starved to 
death on J^ritish rations, which usually consisted of : 

"Breakfast, a small piece of bacon, war bread and tea. 

"Dinner, marmalade, skunk meat, hard tack and tea. 

"Supper, encore with tea. 

"We were all glad when the quarantine was lifted and we 
boarded one of those little Christmas trains for Southampton. 
We stayed there until dark and then boarded a quick channel 
steamer. I expected rough sailing', as that channel has a repu- 
tation, but I was tired out and exhausted and so fell asleep on 
a mess table and did not know whether it was rough or smooth. 

"We arrived in LeHavre the next morning and had to hike 
three miles to our camp, and there we stayed long enough to 
get gas masks and turn over all our excess baggage. They told 
us to take as little with us as possible, as it would be available 
when we came out of the trenches for a rest. I, like every- 
body, tried to travel as lightly as possible, so disposed of a lot 
of personal belongings. 

"Leaving LeHavre we had an all night ride to Eu. We 
knew we were going near the lines, but wondered if the engi- 
neer had sense enough to stop when he got there. At Eu we 
were met by a band of Scotch bag-pipers and received quite 
an ovation. We had breakfast and then started on a brutal 
12-mile hike to Sallennelle. This town is about two kilos 
from the mouth of the Somme River, where we would go to 
take a bath. 

"At this time the Germans were giving the British 'Hail 
Columbia,' and we expected to go in there at any time, but the 
I^ritish managed to hold them. It was pitiful to see the ref- 
ugees on the highways, leaving the war zone with the few 
things they had left in the world. 

"Nothing happened here of any great importance, except 
air raids at night and they bothered us some. One night tliey 
hit a British ammunition dump, not far from where we were 
billeted. The explosion went off with an awful bang, and the 
flare lighted up the countryside for miles around. 



WESLEY L. KETTERER 149 

"All the time we were here we were learning all that was 
possible about the Vicker machine guns and British tactics, 
expecting to go into the lines with them, but this never materi- 
alized, as we finally received orders to pack up, turn all our 
l^ritish equipment back to them and start on one of those 
famous trips in horse cars '8 Chevaux — 40 Ilommes' (8 horses 
or 40 men). On this trip we passed through Paris, but went 
through there very fast. Know why ? Too many A. W. O. L.'s 
jumped off there. 

"AVe finall}' arrived at Toul, Lorraine, and went in training 
under the French. This time it was the Llotchkiss machine 
guns, an entirely different method, but it was a relief to get 
away from the 'Tommies,' They don't make a hit with the 
American soldiers. 

"We were stationed at Toul about six weeks when one dark 
night we were packed into motor trucks and after a wild ride, 
in which one could hardly see his hands in front of him, we 
landed at ^linorville. We were in reserve here for two weeks, 
and on another dark, Yery dark night, we hiked into the 
trenches. We marched in by squads with a space of 100 yards 
between squads or far enough apart to see the squad ahead. 
Someone became confused and the company was ordered 
to close up at a very dangerous curve. We then marched 
in a column of squads, a wonderful target we would have 
been had Heinie known we were there. We took over the 
positions held by the Twenty-sixth Division. These positions 
were scattered about the town of Pleury, and it was our busi- 
ness to keep the enem.y out of this town and also to cover his 
approaches. 

"Like everyone else, I will always remember my first night 
under fire. We were sitting in an observation post, the roof of 
which consisted of railroad ties and an opening on each side 
for the lookout. The Germans banged away for two hours and 
seemed to concentrate on us, but we found out the next day 
from the rest of the boys that it had been general. It is hard 
to describe the sound of shells as they whizz through the air. 
as it was unlike anything T had ever heard before. They say 
one never henrs the one that gets him, but whether he does or 
not, we were not trying to find out the first night. About 



150 WESLEY L. KETTERER 

three nights after we had our first gas experience, something 
I feared the most. I was directing the digging of two im- 
placements. In order to show how I wanted them built I 
started to dig. It was a warm night, so naturally I started to 
perspire. I removed my mask in order to take off my coat and 
placed the mask on the parapet, and had my coat half off when 
bang! bang! the bottom seemed to drop out of everything. 
I threw myself in the trench, and we all scampered for a dug- 
out. About fifteen minutes later we heard the throbbing 
noise of the gas shell and someone yelled. Gas. I reached for 




Intericr of Church at Sivry, France — The Result of German 

Artillery Fire 

my mask, but it was not there. It was out on the parapet. It 
did not take me long to make up my mind what to do. I held 
my hand over my nose and mouth, and made a record for 
time, there and back. Fortunately, I knew just where the 
mask was and it did not take me long to get it on. Three 
jiours afterward we made a test and decided to take the masks 
off. Anyone who has worn them for any length of time will 
appreciate how we felt. 

"From the time we entered the trenches until the time wo 
came out for a rest, it was a hard matter to figure out how to 
keep alive. 



WESLEY L. KETTERER 151 

"The stuff the Germans threw over at us was a shame. It 
seemed after their ammunition was exhausted, they would put 
the small cannons in the large ones and shoot them over. 

"After we came out I was sent to school at Langres, an old 
Roman cit}^ and the high watermark of the Germans in 1870. 
From there I was sent to Blois, where I was classified and 
placed in an emergency Prisoners of War Company for duty in 
the Argonne. I was in this outfit two weeks, escorting a batch 
of prisoners to the rear. This was some experience and one I 
will never forget. If anyone doubted Uncle Sam was going to 
lose out in the Argonne, he would have thought different had 
he seen the activity up there. 

"I was then sent to Bourges and assigned to the Central 
Records Office of the Adjutant General's Department. Here 
the army kept a close record of the movements of every man in 
the American Expeditionary Forces. This department was 
mostly made up of tj^pists and clerks recruited in a special de- 
partment in the States. 

"As these men had no previous military experiences, two 
days each week were set aside for drill. Being first sergeant 
of my company, I came in for a lot of this work. During this 
time I made repeated attempts to get back to old Co. C, 320th 
Machine Gun, but without avail. I was classified, so they 
would not listen to me. After the armistice had been signed, 
I made no more attempts, as everyone knew the casuals would 
be sent home first." 

Our reasoning was correct, for on December 26, 1918, an 
order came releasing us and we were sent to St. Aignan to be 
placed in casual companies for return to the U. S. A. It 
would take lots of time and paper to tell what we endured at 
St. Agony (as the fellows would insist on calling it), but suffice 
to say everybody declared it was the worst battle thc}^ were 
ever in. I was here until January 25th, when I became a 
member of Casual Co. No. 498. After another ride on the 
cattle cars we landed at St. Nazaire, and on February 1, 1919, 
boarded the U. S. S. "Finland." 

It was quite a change from our steamer going over, as we 
liad real butter to eat and sugar in our coffee. In fact, it 



152 WESLEY L. KETTERER 

seemed so good, that I was afraid I would wake up and find it 
was only a pleasant dream. During the voyage I spent 
twenty dollars for candy, real American candy, the first T had 
tasted for over a year. 

We were on the water fourteen days, and landed in New 
York on the morning of the 15th of February and boarded 
the train for Camp Merritt, where I received my seventh cootie 
bath and the final one, for which I was thankful. Here we 
were shorn of our excess equipment and sent to Camp Dix, 
where I was discharged on IMarch 1, 1919. 

Wesley L. Ketterer. 




a 



ROY E. KOCH 

T the age of nineteen I enlisted for the period of the 
war, on Angnst 28, 1918, in the U. S. Navy, and re- 
ported for duty as storekeeper, third class, at the 
Receiving Ship, which lay at Pier No. 19, North 

Wharves, Philadelphia, Pa. I was then transferred to the 

Supply Base and served there in general detail. 

Later on I was detailed to serve on board the U. S. S. "Sus- 
sex" as storekeeper, in which capacity I had charge of the 
siipplies which she carried, to be issued out to the boats on 
patrol duty. After this I was again transferred to Pier 19 
as assistant petty officer in charge of the Issuing Department, 
and was detailed for duty with the Naval Oversea's Transpor- 
tation P. O., in charge of a detail of men loading oversea's 
ships. 

Upon the signing of the armistice, and with every expecta- 
tion of peace, I was released from active duty on February 
19, 1919. 

Roy E. Koch. 



'T53) 




PHOTO BY BACHRACH 



-^u<^.^. 



o 



EDWARD O. McHENRY, JR. 

HE United States Government, after mnch debate of 
wise men and some not so wise, decided that September 
22, 1917, was the proper time for Edward Orne 
McHenry to join its army. 

On the morning- of the twenty-third of the same month, 
real early in that same morning, too, we met at the fire house in 
Germantown and paraded to the station, where we were to 
encounter our first taste of what ''Government ownership" had 
meant to the railroads and would probably mean to ourselves. 
At 8.30 we left for Camp Meade, Md., at 2.30 we arrived, 
scheduled time, three hours and a half, elapsed time, six 
hours. 

Landed in camp, we were led by a devious route (it devel- 
oped later that the 2d Lieutenant, who had us in charge, didn't 
know any more than the average 2d Lieut., which doesn't cover 
a postage stamp very thickly) to our barracks. We were met 
b}^ a terrific growl and lots of noise, which gradually evolved 
itself into our future top-kick — and a fine one he proved to be. 

That night we slept, not "the sleep of the just," but just 
slept. It was too cold to do otherwise and, as usual, there 
weren't enough covers. 

The next day drill started. Said drill consisted, for about 
a month, in road making, barrack building and policing, and 
in pulling corn stumps, grass and weeds out of fields. 

About the first of November, our company commander 
decided to pick a few sheep and goats. Eight of us were made 
sergeants, which is as near being a "goat" as you can get in 
the armj^ 

Keal drilling began then, too, and the work got more inter- 
esting. We got guns and bayonets, and cohl fingers aiid 

(155) 



156 EDWARD O. McHENRY, JR. 

frozen feet, and hikes and trenches to dig-, and lectures 
on how to mend clothes, and why to buy insurance and fire con- 
trol, and guard duty and "other things." Also we began to 
get the "pride of outfit" that makes for so much in the army, 
or anywhere, to be sure. We had baseball games and foot- 
ball, and basket-ball games and poker games and "crap," 
though the latter two were rather "de trop," though quite 
popular among the "proletariat." 

About the 15th of December the company supply depart- 
ment was turned over to me with the title of "Supply Ser- 
geant." I rather favored the job at first, but soon found it 
was the most flea-bitten, ill-favored, ill-conditioned, discour- 
aging job in the camp. The big demand for everything that 
was desirable, with a limited supply in sight, and only a forced 
demand for undesirable merchandise, such as picks and shovels, 
and guns to clean, and packs to carry, reminded me very much 
of Y. S. F. Co. and trade conditions in general. 

We passed through various stages of drill, and toward 
Spring, thought we were "some guys," and rather looked down 
on the lonely recruits who had begun to come to camp then in 
droves. 

Along the last of March, we took a memorable hike — from 
Meade to Baltimore and back. The occasion was a Liberty 
Loan parade and our whole division made the trip. We left 
early in the morning and made seventeen miles before supper. 
That night was cold and we knew little about making up a pup 
tent, and very few of us slept. The next morning we arrived 
at Baltimore and camped in one of her many parks. Did you 
ever camp in a park? You might as well be in a zoo. You 
even sneak into the depths of your tent to steal a shave and 
look around to see a half-circle of interested mothers with 
their children, and half expect to have to dodge a peanut. I 
don't mind living in the open, but I do mind being watched 
living in the open. The next day was the parade. Tt was 
more fun to watch than to participate in. 

The gods and the Colonel were good to us, and we were 
allowed to leave our packs for the wagons to care for on the 
way home, (^onsecjuently, we made the trip back to cainp in 
one day. 



EDWARD O. McHENRY, JR. 157 

Our turn to go on the range came about two weeks later, 
something we had been looking forward to for some time. We 
hiked out and spent ten fine days in shooting and field prob- 
lems. It was the first time many of us had fired a gun of as 
much power as the Enfield, and after the first day's work, 
there were many with limps in their right shoulders. 

From then on, rumors of our going over were ripe, and our 
training became more scientific. Nearly every day we had a 
field problem of some sort to work out, either battalion or 
regimental. As supply sergeant, I was kept busy night and 
day, drawing equipment and issuing it, and calling it back and 
turning it in. Our supply service in this war was so well 
organized on this side of the water, that it was only necessary 
for the Quartermaster General, or some of his aides and abet- 
tors, to change their mind ten or twelve times. Of course all 
this cliaDging of equipment orders was probably justified in 
Washington by conditions overseas, but it was more than 
annoying to those who had the work to do. 

I was unfortunate enough to dislocate my knee, about tlie 
last of ^lay, and was sentenced to an indefinite stay in tlie 
Base Hospital. This sort of changed my whole outlook of 
camp life and the war. I thought and hoped at first, that it 
would be onh^ a matter of a week or two, but it was three 
months before I was released. 

The change from the strenuous activity of a regular outfit 
to the cloistered calm of a hospital ward and eight weeks in 
bed was very welcome at first, but by the end of the first week, 
drill of any kind would have been more than welcome. A few 
of us were fortunate enough to have our beds moved out on the 
porch, where we had a chance to see what was going on. 

The Seventy-ninth Division moved out for Hoboken and 
overseas early in July, much to the disappointment of some 
eight hundred cripples at the base, and we were a blue bunch 
foi- a while. The Red Cross, however, had just com])leted a 
building with a big library and reading room, and did their 
best, which was far from little, to entertain us. There were 
plays and movies, and a very good library of about ten 
thousand books. 



158 EDWARD O. McHENRY, JR. 

Along ill September, the hospital got tired of us, and sent 
about ten down to the Development Battalion. The name ex- 
plains it. xVll the cripples and men unfit for oversea's duty 
were placed in this outfit, and many of them, through exercises 
of various kinds, were put in shape for hard work. 

The "Flu" epidemic, coming about this time, meant much 
hard work for the poor cripples. Being not much good for 
anything else, they were sent up to the Base Hospital to do 
police duty and help out generally. It was a remarkable 
fact, that out of a company of twelve hundred men, all of them 
working day and night, and in the midst of the worst infec- 
tion, we had less than thirty cases. 

Before the end of the epidemic, I was transferred again to 
the Quartermaster Corps, and assigned to the Personnel Office. 
The work was interesting enough, but not hard by any means. 
We were supposed to get up in the morning, at least for break- 
fast, and to be on the job by 8 o'clock, but many of us, after 
the armistice was signed, preferred lunch for a rising hour. 

The armistice raised the question, "When do we go home?" 
but nobody answered. We, of the Q. M., felt we were in for 
the "Duration of Peace," as unit after unit from the rest of the 
camp were mustered out, and no word came for us. Eventu- 
ally though, orders came to replace us with civilians as fast as 
possible, and my turn came on the 23d of March, 1919, eight- 
een months to the day in camp mud. 

Was I glad ? I'll say, yes ! 

Edward O. McHenry, Jr. 








(^c^-^-^ ^'^^'^^^^-^^^ 



X 



EUGENE S. MacCLELLAND 

ENLISTED in the United States Marine Corps Reserve, 
April 12, 1917, and was sent to the Philadelphia Navy 
Yard to receive training. 



I received the usual training", and in the latter 
part of May, volunteers were asked for, to go in the Fifth Regi- 
ment, which was going overseas. I volunteered and was exam- 
ined, understanding that I was accepted, but was called for 
another examination and was rejected on account of poor 
eyesight. 

I then went back to the usual routine, which was relieved by 
several trips to New York and Long Island, but it was very 
monotonous with half the company overseas. 

I made several more unsuccessful attempts to get across, 
but it seemed as if I were doomed to remain here the rest of 
the war, which I did. 

On February 28, 1919, I received my release. 

Eugene S. MacClelland. 



(159) 



o 



LLOYD T. MORRIS 

N the 15th day of June, 1918, I enlisted at the City 
Hall, Philadelphia, after I had passed the preliminary 
examination at the League Island Navy Yard, and 
secured the recommendation for Storekeeper. I was 
called in the service of the U. S. Navy on July 2, 1918, and 
was instructed to proceed to League Island, where the officer 
in charge temporarily assigned me to the Supply Department 
of that station. 

The duties there were to furnish the ship or station in the 
vicinity of the Fourth Naval District with their respective 
supplies and accessories. The Supply Department was the 
school for preparation for the men, and as soon as they were 
qualified they were transferred to the training camps for a 
short period and then sent to sea, to serve in the capacity of 
which they made choice when they enlisted. 

Upon several occasions I was recommended for active sea 
duty and put on the list, but was not called. Doing land 
duties became very monotonous and, after waiting until the 
customary time for transfer had elapsed, I put in a request 
for sea duty. My request would have been acted upon favor- 
ably, but, unfortunately, just at that time the "Flu" broke 
out, and no one was released from the yard. Many of our 
men who were stationed at League Island died from this 
disease, which lasted two months, covering a period from 
September to November 1st. The camp was under quarantine 
practically for these two months. 

On November 11, 1918, the Armistice was signed and this 
changed the whole course of events. The chief desire, then, 
of each one of us was to get out of active service and return 
to our homes. Some of the boys did not realize the fulfillment 

(i6i) 



162 LLOYD T. MORRIS 



of this hope, as they were transferred to training camps for 
a while and afterward to sea. At this writing many of them, 
I believe, are yet in the service. 

We were granted to put requests in for release, of which 
I took advantage and my request was acted upon favorably 
on January 16, 1919. 

The men in the service stationed in the Supply Depart- 
ment were not quartered in the camp, but were given sub- 
sistence money to live outside ; in fact, it was an entirely 
different branch of service from that of the sea activities, but 
their training enabled them to be used at sea in case of 
necessity, as they were instructed in the same manner as those 
trained for sea service. 



Lloyd T. Morris. 



GEORGE W. MacFETRIDGE 



IN April 1, 1918, I enlisted in the U. S Army and was 
^^ sent to Springfield, Mass., as an athletic instructor. 
^k^fl I later received a commission as 2d Lieutenant and 

sent to Washington, where I was detailed to instal the 
Taxi and Dispatching system of Motor Transportation Corps 
of the U. S. Army. After this work was finished and author- 
ized by the Secretary of War, I was detailed to Camp John- 
ston, Jacksonville, Fla., where I was placed in command of 
the "Dare Devil Gas Hounds," of the Motor Transportation 
Corps, and was still in command when I received an indefinite 
furlough to Philadelphia, on October 2, 1919, and I still have 
five years to serve in the army. 

George W. MacFetridge. 




(163) 




PHOTO BY BACHRACH 




^ 



T^ 



ERNEST PAGET 



Vw^lHEN the United States entered the World War, April 

\My 6, 1917, I immediately thought I would like to be- 

ggjgg come one of Uncle Sam's fighting force. I enlisted 

in the 2d Penna. Field Artillery, April 10, 1917, and 

was assigned to Battery C of the same regiment. 

W^e were called to the field July 15, 1917, which was my 
first day of army experience. We were taken from the 
armory at Broad and Diamond Streets, Philadelphia, and 
put into auto trucks and taken to Jenkintown, Pa. 

Our camp at that time was nothing but swamps, and 
we were put to work on the ground and in less than one 
week we had one of the finest camps in the city. After a 
week or so of what I thought was real army life it seemed 
to me that the army was not such a bad place after all. 
Three or four weeks had passed and the army that I thought 
was easy was now getting harder every day. 

Of course we could come home at nights, but we had to 
be back for the next morning reveille. The boys generally 
came in about 2 or 3 o'clock in the morning. They would get 
to the camp limits, and all of a sudden you would hear, "Halt ! 
Who's there?" No one would answer, but would sneak around 
to some other part of the camp and then sneak past the guard 
and get to their bunks. Some time if we knew who the guard 
was we would answer him, "Friends," when he yelled "Halt! 
Who's there f Then we would keep still until we heard 
the words, "Advance one" to be recognized. If we were in 
a crowd, as we generally were, especially coming into camp, 
we were always undecided as to who would advance first. 
After a pause of a minute or two one of us would pick up 
enough nerve to advance. The first thing we would say to 

(165) 



166 ERNEST PAGET 



the guard, who carried a stick for a gun, "Is the coast clear ?" 
or "Where is the Officer of the Day?" 

You know, we were not used to very much army disci- 
pline then, and when we came in a crowd we were not afraid 
of one guard, because we had the best of him. Sometimes 
we would all advance at once, and the guard would say, "Lay 
low, the 0. D. is around," or else "Keep quiet and hurry to 
your bunks." 

Of course, the guard would never lock any of us up, 
because he knew that he would like to go home sometime 
and come in late. We all had our turn at guard duty and 
we didn't have the heart to lock any one up. Often when I 
was on guard I wished for some one to come in late so I 
could talk to him. 

One night I went out and forgot to come back for three 
days, so when I finally went back I was taken to our Captain 
and he fined me one dollar and put me on extra duty for ten 
days. My first day of extra duty was to chop a lot of logs 
up for our kitchen fire. This work was all done after our 
regular drilling hours. The next day I had to dig a big hole 
six feet deep, ten feet long and 2 feet wide. Just as I had 
finished this hole orders came to break camp and move to 
Georgia in twenty-four hours. After that hard day's work 
of digging, digging, digging, I had to fill the hole up again. 

We broke camp, packed everything up and left at 3 A. M., 
August 29, 1917. My trip south, which took two days, was 
enjoyed very much. 

We arrived in Augusta, Ga., August 31, 1917, at Camp 
Hancock, which at that time was nothing but a forest. 

We went right to work and cut all the trees down and in 
three weeks' time we had the best camp in the United States. 

We were the first regiment to arrive there, and for two 
weeks troops from all parts of Pennsylvania came until we 
had a regular city of 35,000 soldiers. 

Wheii we had everything settled and started our regular 
army drills, I did not think as much of the army as I did 
while at Jenkintown. In fact, it seemed to get harder each 
day. 



ERNEST PAGET 167 



At first we were only going to be there thirteen weeks 
and then go to France. It was at the end of seven weeks 
when we received our full amount of horses, which numbered 
210. Our battery had about 200 men and we were divided 
into sections, from the first section to the ninth. 

The first four sections were gun sections and the next 
four were ammunition sections, and the last section took care 
of all our equipment, which consisted of our supply sergeant, 
mechanics, cooks and s-table crew. Each section had ten 
drivers and about fourteen cannoneers. 

I was made a driver and was assigned to two horses. I 
had to groom them twice a day and feed and water them three 
times a day, and exercise them at least two hours each day. 

It was about this time that we were changed from the 2d 
Penna. Field Artillery to the 108th U. S. Field Artillery, and 
we were then a part of the 28th Division. 

After we were thoroughly drilled with our horses and 
knew how to handle them we started our work on the artillery 
range. We would start out Monday morning, harness our 
horses; of course, we had our regular place to go to, and in 
twenty minutes' time our entire regiment would be on its way 
to the range for artillery fire. 

We would stay on the range about four days and then 
come back to camp and get ready for Saturday inspection. 

The drilling was about the same every day. We would 
get up at reveille, which was at 6 A. M., and stand roll call. 
Then the drivers would go to their stable and feed the horses, 
and the cannoneers would clean up around the tents and 
along the battery street. After that we would have break- 
fast and after breakfast we would have time enough to have 
a little smoke before the bugler would blow "drill call." We 
would all stand in line and the drivers would go to the stables 
and water the horses and then groom them for one hour. 
The cannoneers would go to the guns and have gun drill. 
After we had finished grooming we would put a saddle on 
one horse and a halter shank on the other horse, and then go 
out for a horseback ride through the woods. 



168 



ERNEST PAGET 



We would get back in time for dinner and then at 1.30 
P. M. we would do the same thing over again. On Fridays 
we would spend the afternoons in cleaning the harness and 
our equipment for Saturday morning inspection. 

Our week's work was supposed to be finished at Saturday 
noon, but we had to water and feed our horses just the same. 
In fact, the drivers never had any time off. 

On Sunday morning we had to go to church, and after 
church we would get a pass to go to town or else get one to 
go horseback riding. 




Camouflaged Road at Bras, Meuse Sector, France — Showing How 

Thorough the French Were in Protecting Their 

Highways to the Battle Front 

In the early evenings I would spend my time playing base- 
ball, and when it got too dark to play I would go to my tent 
and write letters, and some evenings would get leave to go 
to town. I always had plenty of fun and a good time when 
not on duty. We were allowed out until taps, which was at 
10,15 P. M., when our day was ended. 

While on the range we had to sleep in our dog tents, where 
there was onl.y room for two to sleep. One night while on 
the range we had a rainstorm and it washed everything we 
had to the bottom of a hill. The next night it blew up cold 



ERNEST PAGET 169 



and we nearly froze, and our horses were covered with ice. 
Another night while in camp we had one of those terrible 
Southern windstorms, and it tore all our tents down and 
blew our whole camp to pieces. Some of us had to sleep 
out in the sand, and to make matters worse it started to rain. 
We had no shelter at all except our two blankets. 

The next day we found everything upside down and it 
took quite some time before we had things straightened out 
again. 

I always had an idea the South was a warm place, but 
while there we had plenty of snow. While the cold weather 
was on, we put floors and sides to our tents, and we also 
had little stoves which helped to make our tents very com- 
fortable. 

We thought we were quite well-trained soldiers now and 
began to get restless for leaving for France. 

We received orders to get rid of our horses and get auto 
trucks as we were going to be motorized. So just a month 
before we left the South we received a lot of Nash Quad motor 
trucks. We then were made chauffeurs, and after we were 
able to handle the trucks we took a trip to Columbia, S. C. 
We had a good time in each town we passed through and the 
trip lasted four days. When we arrived back in camp we 
had orders to set sail for France. 

On May 11, 1918, we started for New York and we ar- 
rived at Camp IMills, May 13, 1918. We stayed at Camp 
Mills until Saturday morning 2 A. M., when we w^ere put on 
board the English steamer "Justicia." I was one of the 
unlucky ones to be put off the boat, as they thought we had 
the measles. We were sent back to Hoboken, N. J., and put 
in a hospital. When we were examined the doctor wanted 
to know what was wrong with me. I told him I was supposed 
to have the measles. It amused him very much as he said 
nothing was wrong with any of us. 

So the rest of my regiment was on its way over and there 
T was back in the TI. S. A. as a casual. They sent me to 
Camp Merritt, N. J., and here they put me in a casual com- 



170 ERNEST PAGET 



pany awaiting for orders to sail. About one week later I 
sailed to join my old regiment. I landed in Brest after a 
ten-day trip which I certainly enjoyed. 

AA^ell, I was a casual, and when you are a casual they don't 
care what they do to you or with you. While waiting to be 
sent back to my regiment I was made to do all sorts of work. 
Of course, I wouldn't have minded it if I had been with the 
old bunch, but they were all new faces to me and I was really 
lonesome. The day came at last when I was to rejoin the 
old regiment. I was put on a train, which later I found was 
the wrong one, as it took me to the southern part of France, 
about two hundred miles from my regiment. It was here 
that I was picked up and put in a motor service outfit, taking 
supplies up to the front. I didn't care much for this job as 
I had no friends and while driving the truck had nobody 
to talk to, but simply had to follow a line of motor trucks 
with supplies. We would drive all day and all night and oft- 
times fall asleep at the wheel. One day I found enough time 
to write to my Colonel, asking him to get me back to my own 
regiment. He finally sent for me, but it surely took a long 
time. When I arrived at the place where they were supposed 
to be I found they had left for the front. I only got as far 
as Is-sur-tille and was put in another casual company driving 
a truck. I had now almost given up hopes of ever seeing my 
comrades again when I was sent back to Bordeaux and here 
I was given a job driving a car for a Colonel. This work was 
alright, but I was never satisfied, as I wanted to be back with 
my own bunch. 

At last, after being a wanderer all over France, T again 
received orders to seek my regiment. 

This time I left Bordeaux and went to Tours, where I stayed 
one day and a night, and then took a train to Nancy. At Nancy 
I was told whore my outfit was located. I had to go to Toul 
and from there to a little place called Commercy. When I 
finally arrived at Commercy I found our Division Head- 
quarters, and they said the outfit was on their way to Bel- 
gium and that I was to stay here a day or so with the 28th 
Division doughboys, when they would send me to my old regi- 
ment. ^So here I worked and helped the doughboys for about 



ERNEST PAGET 171 



three days and was then sent to Toul again. From Toul I 
was sent to Paris, and after spending all I had in Paris J 
went to Boulogne on the English Channel. Here I sta^^ed 
over night and started again the next morning for my regi- 
ment. 

I was always on my way, but took my time seeing thiiigs 
of interest in the many places where I stopped. 

I arrived about twenty kilometers from the regiment and 
had to walk the rest of the way as everything was blown up 
or ruined. 1 walked all night from Ypres, Belgium, to a 
place called Eoulus, where at last I found them. That was 
the happiest moment of my life when 1 saw the old bunch 
again. I was put right back where I belonged and did the 
same work for which I was drilled. I was with them but three 
days when the armistice was signed. It was after this that 
we spent many happy hours together, telling each other of 
our many experiences during our separation. 

We were sent to Thielt, Belgium, where we laid around 
awaiting orders to come to France and then sail for U. S. A. 
From Thielt we went to a little town, Provin, where we stayed 
until after Christmas. It rained every day we were there 
and we were always wading through mud up to our ankles. 
While here we lived in small tin shacks that were built by 
the British at the beginning of the war. 

It was in one of these shacks that I received my first dose 
of cooties. They would bother us so that we could not sleep 
at night. We would boil and boil our underwear, and we 
only had one suit then, so while it was boiling we had to go 
without underwear. No matter how much we boiled them 
we would always have the cooties back with us before the day 
was over. The^^ were always with us until after we left Proven 
and started back for France. 

At Laval, France, our regiment was split up and each 
battery was put in a small town and our battery was sent to 
L'Huisserie. Here we were first quartered in a coal mine 
and later they put us in barns. We slept upstairs in the 
barns and the pigs, cows, horses, chickens, etc., were below, 
and the odor put us to sleep. We stayed in this town until 
April 3d, when we received orders to get rid of everything 



172 ERNEST PAGET 



and leave for Le Mans. It was then that I received my 
furlough and v^^ent to St. Malo, v^hich v^as one of United 
States' leave areas. There we received three good meals a 
day and a good bed to sleep in, and could get up any time 
in the morning or if we wished could stay in bed all day. We 
were sent to the best hotels and they gave us the best eats. 
The army paid for it all. It lasted only a week and we then 
had to go back again to army rules. How I hated to see 
that last day come as we were living like millionaires at St. 
Malo, which, before the war was a great French summer 
resort. 

We stayed for two weeks at Le Mans, where we went 
through all our examinations and then left for St. Nazaire. 
Here we sta3^ed until May 4th and then sailed for dear old 
U. S. A. 

We had a very rough trip over and I was sea-sick for two 
days. 

We saw land first on May 15th and every fellow said it 
was the happiest time of his life. 

After arriving in Hoboken, N. J., we were sent to Camp 
Dix, where we were relieved of all our equipment. 

I received my discharge on May 26, 1919. 

Ernest Paget. 



WILLIAM J. PERRINE 



PEAKING of life in the U. S. Navy, " 'Taint all honey, 
'taint all pie," and it is only after a year or two with 
one of Uncle Sam's sea-going vessels that one can 
realize the work that is done by each ship, no matter 
how large or small, during war times. 

In training a man for one of the ships of the navy, he is 
taught first to be a fighting man, as his first three weeks in 
a training camp are given over mainly to drill periods. 

As a member of the Seaman's Guard, about the middle of 
1917, I was taught the use of the modern rifle and shown 
the working of the various naval guns and other equipment. 
On account of the lack of space and also the sudden require- 
ment for taking care of a vast body of men, the guard of 
which I was a member was stationed at the old Naval Home, 
Twenty-fourth Street and Grays Ferry Road. 

I was sent to Wissahickon Barracks, where my training 
was finished as far as it is possible to train a sailor on land. 
While looking over the new arrivals there one day, I hap- 
pened to see Robert Gordon land, suitcase and all. 

June 1, 1918, I was transferred to U. S. S. "Morrill," 
flagship of the District Mine Sweeping Squadron, as a Quar- 
termaster, 3d Class. 

(173) 



174 WILLIAM J. PERRINE 

A Quartermaster's duty comprises many odds and ends, 
but principally he is one of the navigator's assistants, and is 
always in touch with the ship's movements and in emergencies 
is called out of his bunk to take the wheel. The first time 
one actually "takes the wheel" is a feeling of proudness which 
can't be described. Starting out with the "Morrell" on June 
1st was a new experience to me as the first German "sub" 
was at that time preying on American shipping near the 
Delaware Breakwater. Early on the morning of June 2, 
1918, we were awakened by the Boatswain pipe sounding 
every one to general quarters, which is only sounded in ex- 
treme cases. The lookout had sighted a ship in sinking con- 
dition in the mouth of Delaware Bay. On investigation, we 
found the S. S. "Pratt," a tanker, had been hit by a mine, 
and, as we were standing by to give assistance if necessary, 
the lookout reported a "sub" on our starboard bow. Three 
minutes later we were speeding after I\Ir. Fritz at full speed, 
and, being at the wheel, it was quite encouraging to me to 
see us gaining on the periscope. As we came nearer the "sub" 
submerged. Orders were given to let go of depth charges, 
or "ash cans," as we called them. A muffled explosion, and, 
although we watched to see the effects of our work, we saw 
no more of the "sub," but could never claim the sinking of 
one as we had no proof. 

Our chief work was mine sweeping from sunrise to sunset, 
and patrol duty from sunset to sunrise. So we were busy 
at all times, with gun crews sleeping on deck and double 
lookouts posted. If we managed to get more than four hours' 
sleep out of the twenty-four we considered we were having 
a good time. 

At night all ships were risking exposure if a single light 
was seen, hence no lights after dark, unless heavily screened. 
It was also a risky proposition to run without lights as col- 
lisions between vessels were frequent, and ofttimes one would 
barely escape being run down while on patrol duty. It was 
dreary work that we were on, as we were not allowed to 
smoke on deck or make any unnecessary noise for fear of 
attracting a "sub," which might be laying in wait for some 
large transport loaded with troops. 



WILLIAM J. PERRINE 



175 



We came to port about once a week for supplies and we 
were always due for stale chow about four days out of seven. 
It was on June 14th tliat we picked up our first mine of Ger- 
man make, and it was worth a day's work to be able to report 
that we were not sweeping in vain. In the next two days 
we picked up three, and the following day two more. 

The fleet was enlarged, and as fiagshij) we were kept busy 
operating with either one of the other all the time. As we 




Cleanliness is an Important Factor in 
the Navy — W. J. Perrine Brightening 
up his Wardrobe. 



were responsible for all ships sunk in our district, we kept 
a close watch on our sweeps. 

While sweeping off Delaware Breakwater, July 26, 1918, 
we received a distress call from a ship, stating that the 
schooner ^'Dorothy Barrett" was being shelled by two "subs" 
about fifteen miles from our position. Making all possible 
speed to that position, we found on arrival that the "Barrett" 
was sinking slowly and two "subs" were engaged in battle 



176 WILLIAM J. PERRINE 

with one of our sweepers, who had arrived a short time be- 
fore. We also joined in the fracas and after twenty minutes 
the "subs" disappeared, leaving us to guess which way they 
went. We tired about twenty rounds of three-inch ammuni- 
tion at them, but the extent of the damage we did will never 
be known. 

The "Barrett" went down in about fifteen minutes with- 
out the loss of a life, but with a cargo of coal estimated at 
thirty thousand dollars. 

We were not troubled again with submarines until early 
in August, when we were sent with sealed orders to the Vir- 
ginia coast with two destroyers and six chasers. On two days 
and three nights reports came in that there was a "sub" operat- 
ing in our vicinity, and on the third night the destroyers 
found and officially claimed the sinking of a U-boat, which 
had made life miserable for many a seaman on that coast. 

After this experience our crew was pretty well worn out 
and we were allowed two days in port, during which time 
the ship was painted and put in shape to stand a few months 
more work. A severe storm had been raging during this time 
and on August 8th, while tied up at dock at Cape May, we 
were called by wireless for immediate assistance thirty miles 
off Overfalls lightship. We left dock 12 minutes later and 
it was some night, waves breaking over deck every few min- 
utes. When we arrived on the scene the S. S. "Poseidon," 
from Amsterdam, was almost lost from view, having been 
rammed by S. S. "Somerset," which was not in sight, having 
been so badly damaged she was compelled to make for port 
at once. 

Wreckage was scattered for miles and in one hour we had 
picked up thirty-two survivors and transferred them to the 
S. S. "McLean" to take to port for medical treatment, our 
doctor going with them. We put four lifeboats in the water 
searching the wreckage and the boat I was in searched for 
six hours without a change of men. We picked up three 
dead and one man almost gone, but after two hours he was 



WILLIAM J. PERRINE 177 

able to talk a little and identify the other three men, and 
eventually survived. 

The following week it was one rescue after another, as 
the next day we were detailed to proceed to sea in search of 
a seaplane, and after six hours' run, came across it floating on 
surface, with the pilot, observer and gunner in their seats half- 
drowned and badly injured. Rushing them into port we 
barely missed a floating mine, and w^e all thanked our lucky 
stars that we reached port in one piece, instead of decorating 
Davy Jones' locker in parts. These three also happily were 
saved. 

The same week, while in Cape May harbor, we were lauded 
for our timely rescue of the crew of seaplane 1742, which 
accidentally collapsed while landing in harbor. Four minutes 
after the accident the men were being treated by our doctor 
in the Captain's cabin, in which time we lowered a boat, pulled 
to the plane, cut the men loose, and returned to ship. A 
record for lowering a lifeboat being made at this time, which 
was done in forty-five seconds. 

From that time on till November 5, 1918, we were kept 
busy sweeping the main channels, sweeping up on an average 
of two mines a week. 

November 5th we were compelled to go to a shipyard as 
our ship was in terrible condition, owing to exposure to all 
kinds of weather and storms. Six days later the armistice 
was signed, completing our rescuing experience, but leaving 
mines still floating in all parts of the Atlantic Ocean. We left 
the shipyard January 28th and continued sweeping for three 
months. One of the coincidences of my life on the "Morrill" 
after leaving the shipj^ard was that we were sent to blow up the 
schooner "Barrett," which was a menace to navigation, having 
sunk directly in the main line of coastwise steamers. 

On May 17th, I was transferred to Philadelphia Navy 
Yard for transport duty, owing to shortage of men, and on 
July 13th started on my first trip across the ocean. It was a 
pleasure trip except for work, which is a large part of a 
gob's life, and on arrival in Brest stayed twenty-three days, 
including a five days' Paris leave, which gave us a chance to 



178 



WILLIAM J. PERRINE 



look around, and we did some looking, and there is something 
to look at there. 

This work ended my time with the United States Navy 
and I had climbed as far as Quartermaster, 1st Class. Cer- 
tainl}^ I consider that by far the most interesting chapter of 
my life. 

William J. Perrine. 




SARGENT A. PIERCE 



1 ENLISTED July 30, 1917, in Troop A, First Penna. 

Cavalry, later known as the 101st Cavalry, U. S. A. 
ggggj We left Philadelphia for Camp Hancock, Ga., on Sep- 
tember 11th and arrived at camp on the morning of 
the 13th. 

After being trained strenuously for ten weeks, learning 
the art of the cavalryman, we lost our regimental identity, 
the several troops being distributed among the other units 
of the 28th Division. Troop A was swallowed up almost en- 
tirely by the Headquarters Company, 108th Field Artillery. 
I then had to start my training or education all over again. 

After six months more of drills, each day a monotonous 
repetition of the previous day, and after despairing of ever 
leaving the U. S. A., we received orders to get ready to 
entrain. 

We were sent to Camp Mills, Long Island, May 13, 1918, 
where we received our final physical and equipment inspec- 
tions. We then left for New York and on May 18th embarked 
on the British S. S. "Justicia." 

We were escorted down the harbor and for a few hours 
from the coast by airplanes and torpedo boats, and the fleet 
of sixteen ships was convoyed across the Atlantic by one U. S. 
battle cruiser, which was plenty. 

The officers tried to vary the monotony of the voyage by 
inspections, inspections of every part of the ship, of the men 
and of the equipment, and we also had physical drills and 
drills for leaving ship in case of necessity. But the only real 
diversion was had at mess and the daily band concerts. Two 
dances were given, but as there were only one hundred and 
fifty nurses among five thousand men, I can't say that they 
were very successful. 

(179) 



180 SARGENT A. PIERCE 

We arrived at Liverpool, May 30th, at 4 A. M., and had 
to lay out in the river to await high tide in order to dock. 
It was not until 6 P. M. that we started to debark, and it 
was 8 P. M. when we at last received orders to move. We 
reached our so-called rest camp at 10.10 P. M. Ye Gods, 
what a march ; all of our equipment with rifles, automatics 
and 120 rounds to tote for two hours straight after being 
cooped up on shipboard for thirteen days. 

Two days later we entrained for Southampton at 9.30 
A. M. and arrived at our destination at 8 P. M. That was 
our first experience on the Continental compartment passen- 
ger coaches. 

Another rest camp for two days on the very scant British 
rations, then we embarked on a side-wheel channel boat for 
Le Havre, France, on June 4:th, and arrived at 5 A. M. on 
the 5th. The boat was so crowded that all who could not get 
below decks had to stay on the upper deck. It was so cold 
we had to keep moving around all night. Some of the boys 
slept in the coal bunkers (soft coal) and on the whole we 
were a dirty lot to march behind a brass band through the 
streets of Le Havre. We then enjoyed another two days' 
rest, which we surely needed. 

On June 7th, at 8 P. M., we entrained for our finishing 
camp, Camp De Meucon, Vannes. It was the last time we 
enjoyed the luxury of traveling on a passenger train. There- 
after it was one of those 40 hommes or 8 chevaux palaces. 
We finally arrived at our camp on June 9th. 

So far our experience had only been with American artil- 
lery, and our Government up to this time had not been able 
to supply the necessary immber of pieces to out-fit all tlie 
units going abroad. The French had a large surplus so they 
supplied our forces with all the light artillery. 

Camp De Meucon was an artillery camp with a fair-size 
range for Americans. Here we received our equipment and 
practiced with it until we became entirely familiar with all its 
detail. The guns were quite different from the ones we had 
been accustomed to at Camp Hancock, the 75s being particu- 
larly efficient, as were also our gun crews. We often fired 



SARGENT A. PIERCE 181 



as many as 38 shots a minute while in action around Fismes 
and in the Argonne. 

The first week at Camp De Meucon found us without guns, 
so we practiced infantry drill. The second week we were 
issued two guns for the regiment, but no horses to draw them. 
By attaching long ropes to them and a battery to the ropes, 
we managed to drag them to and from the range every day. 
It was a mere four miles each way. In the meantime, we 
had a horse detail scouring the country, trying to pick up 
enough animals to fill our complement. About the fourth 
week a few began to drift in, and we received also a small lot 
of old guns. 

Our doughboys had left for the front and had participated 
in one engagement, being backed up by the French artillery. 
We soon received word that they wanted ^^their" artillery as 
they did not like the frogs. There was a small riot around 
the French newspaper vender ever^y evening, so anxious were 
we to follow the news of our doughboys. 

It was not until about August 1st that we received our 
new guns, but we were still short some horses. At the same 
time a new rumor was current that we were to be motorized. 
That rumor sprung anew after eyery engagement, but never 
materialized until a month before sailing orders were re- 
ceived, that being five months after the armistice was signed. 

We received orders at last to move. There was a big 
push on foot and we were to go, ready or not. We loaded 
everything on flat cars, and we ourselves and our animals 
rode in box cars. 

On August 12th, in good spirits, we bid good-bye to Camp 
De Meucon, for we were to join our doughboys. 

We detrained August 14th, at Mezy, the next stop above 
Chateau Thierry, which had just been cleaned of the Huns. 
We moved up toward Cohan until we got lost in the woods 
and were obliged to camp there until morning. But that 
night we were bombed, but fortunately no one was hurt as 
he did not quite get us, and from that time on till the armis- 
tice was signed, with the exception of the time necessary to 
transfer us from France to Belgium, we were never out of 
range of Heinie's guns. 



182 SARGENT A. PIERCE 

My training, in nearly all of the ten months of camp, had 
been in the use of artillery instruments, range-finders, sight- 
finders and so forth, but as soon as we got on tlie front I was 
transferred to the regimental ammunition dump to keep our 
firing records. Each battery was allowed so much ammuni- 
tion, which amount had always to be kept up to the maximum. 
They kept a careful record of the exact number of shots fired, 
the kind of shells and fuses, the size of the powder charges 
used, and made a written daily report, which was turned over 
to their battalion headquarters, who in turn sent them to regi- 
mental headquarters, where I received them. I then con- 
densed them and sent them back to brigade headquarters. 
Of course, all movements of supplies had to be made at night, 
for Heinie could see our roads during the day and could then 
shell us. So to prevent delay, and the possibility of the regi- 
ment running out of ammunition, the reports were always 
phoned in at a stated hour each day, which hour terminated 
our day, but never our firing. These phone reports always 
went through the same channels as the written reports, and 
thus enabled us to get up the same night the amount of ammu- 
nition fired during the day. 

The ammunition dump was always concealed as much as 
possible, and was generally situated in a wood or clump of 
trees with very bushy tops, and it was always covered by a 
layer of brush to hide it from the aircraft. All work of 
necessity was done at night, and it was hard work, each shell 
weighing on an average of ninetj^-five pounds, which had to 
be found, picked up and carried anywhere from fifty to two 
hundred feet to a motor truck. This was all done in the dense 

blackness of woods at night. 

The trucks carried forty and fifty shells apiece, with their 
complement of powder, fuse and primers, which, when the 
battery position was reached, had to be carried from the road 
to the nearest truck that could get to the position, the dis- 
tance being anywhere up to five hundred yards. Just try 
that stunt, carrying ninety-five pounds on your shoulder, 
cross-country, stepping into holes, onto stones and tripping 
over roots. Occasionally we ran plumb into a tree, which, be- 
cause of the blackness of our surroundings, we could not see. 



SARGENT A. PIERCE 183 

It was mean work, it was hard work, work that kept the boys 
of the ammunition train on the road for hours without any- 
thing to eat, but withal, never was a word of complaint ut- 
tered. It was duty, work that helped to defeat the Hun, and 
they were glad to be able to do that much, often repeating 
the hope that the shell they carried would not be wasted. 

I did not do much of that kind of work. I wore stripes. 
My job was much like that of a shipper, tell off so many 
trucks to each battery, give them the proper kind and amount 
of ammunition, furnish them with guides to the battery posi- 
tion, and the guides with receipts. We were thus sure that 
the loads reached their destination. With trom twenty to 
forty trucks to load in the dark and get away oy at least 11 
P. M., so they could be off the road by daylight, I had my 
hands full. I was usually through by midnight and then 
did not have anything to do until 6 A. M. Soft! 

On the 9th -of September we were pulled out. Rumor had 
it that we were going to a rest camp or a quiet sector. The 
first two nights I had a horse and rode it from sunset to sun- 
rise, sleeping all day. The next night an officer got sore feet 
and therefore I lost my horse, and by the next morning I 
was well along on the sore feet pathway. The next night, 
or rather, about 4.30 P. M., they piled all the dismounted 
men into trucks. Twenty-six men, with their packs, rifles 
and ammunition, were assigned to a truck, and they drove 
like mad all through the night. There were so many in the 
trucks that all could not get their feet on the floor. There 
were always three or four parts of our anatomy that were 
paralyzed from our neighbors' angles digging into us. Every 
now and then one would fall asleep from weariness and topple 
over on the rest of us, and then sufl'er a rude awakening. 

We at last arrived at our destination at 7 A. M., too weary 
to do anything but just flop. Most of us not even troubled 
to get our blankets. We were allowed a day and a half to 
rest, and then one more day's march brought us to a small 
wood, where we had a three days' rest, which we surelj^ 
needed. 

Sunday came with prospects of a day in town, but just 
as passes were about to be issued orders came to prepare to 



184 



SARGENT A. PIERCE 



move. We had dinner at 11 A. M., policed the camp and 
then lay around until 5 P. M., when we had one of our big 
surprises overseas — motor trucks to transport our packs, etc. 
Then we started to hike at 5.30 P. M. and kept it up until 
8.30 A. M. We don't know where we started from nor where 
we ended, as we were too weary to inquire. We only knew 
that we had made a bee-line hike of forty-four kilos. We 
were lost three times during the night, and had no way of 
finding out how much we had strayed from our course. A 
rest of three hours and then we started on our way again, 
camping the next evening near the Argonne railhead. The 




Romagne, France — Historical Mansions with Beautiful Lawns and 
Gardens were Destroyed in a Day by Bursting Shells 

next few days found us fixing up our position in the Argonne. 
From that time on until the 26th of September we had 
lots of hard work preparing for our defensive. For over 
eight days we worked day and night getting up ammunition, 
over 350,000 rounds of 75s going up. The roads were so 
congested that trucks would frequently take two days to make 
a trip which ordinarily would only take a few hours. The 
drivers would fall asleep at the wheel, and when they could 
not stand it any longer th oy would ditch their trucks and go 
to sleep on the seat. Everything with wheels was used to 
bring up supplies. We had a great deal of extra work sad- 



SARGENT A. PIERCE 185 



died on us, because of the large number of horses which 
dropped dead from exhaustion or from the effects of previous 
gassing. 

At last the zero hour of the 2Gth was at hand. Here and 
there a few isolated shots were heard, gradually increasing as 
the units took up the barrage. At 4.30 A. M., they were in 
full blast, the air was thick with shrieking shells. At morn- 
ing mess we learned the glad news, that the trench system 
which the Germans had held for over four years had been 
taken. The Hun retreated so fast that he left vast quantities 
of material and prisoners in our hands. They moved back so 
far that our regiment could not reach them with its guns, 
having changed its position twice in two days. We lost so 
many horses that we had to leave our caissons behind. 

On the 10th of October we were relieved and sent back 
toward railhead, supposed to be going to a rest camp. We 
camped there awaiting additional horses, the brigade being 
short about six hundred or seven hundred horses. Here the 
artillery brigade was detached from the division and made 
corps artillery, and the doughboys, who had been very badly 
done up, were sent to the Toul sector for a rest. 

A few days later our animals arrived and we were loaded 
on box and flat cars for our rest camp — Belgium. We were 
awakened early one morning by a voice of Scottish accent, 
bidding us get up and unload our train and get on our way 
as the tracks were needed for other trains following us. 

Such a dismal scene. It was raining as usual, but we had 
gotten rather used to that. All that we could see was mud, 
with a few tin shacks, which looked as though they were sink- 
ing into the ground. We were not allowed to tarry, but got 
our duffel off the train and immediately took up the march. 
It was one long scene of desolation all along the route. Men 
and horses, tanks, rifles, ammunition, clothing and all the 
what not of an army littering the fields. The Germans had 
built a narrow-gauge railroad alongside of the road. When 
retreating they placed bombs under the tracks every hundred 
feet and cut down every tree that had not been destroyed by 
shell-fire. They had also driven all livestock before them 
and in some towns stripped the houses of metal. 



186 SARGENT A. PIERCE 

The action in Belgium was short and usually at long 
range (except with the airplanes). We moved up our guns 
during the day and fired at night. The Germans usually re- 
treated at night, and held an opposing line during the day 
while they moved their supplies. There was a period of from 
two to three days when we kept moving up without firing a 
shot. The Huns moved back so fast that we could not reach 
them. 

Finally, we pushed out altogether. We were in the center, 
at the apex of a triangle, the British on one side and the 
French on the other. We all started to push at once and the 
British and French, having a shorter distance to go, met in 
the center, pushing us out. 

A few days later the armistice was signed. Nearly every 
one tried to make up lost sleep and spent the first day watch- 
ing the airplanes lazily patrolling the lines, half expecting to 
hear the cannon break out again. 

Right after we were pushed out by our allies we were sent 
back a few kilos to billet and rest in a small town. Head- 
quarters were located in a chateau, right across the road from 
a large British ammunition dump, which the Hun had spotted 
and which he was trying nightly to bomb. 

When we had taken up our billets there the British de- 
cided to get this Hun airman and they had three planes read}^ 
to ascend the moment Heinie came over. As soon as he ap- 
peared over the dump the British went up and surrounded 
him. They had two high-powered lamps hung on the bottom 
plane of their machines in such a manner that they could only 
be seen from below. They kept the Hun up there all night, 
and, finally, when daybreak came, they finished him. 

About ten days afterward the regiment was ordered for- 
ward to a point near Brussels. The whole division (91st, to 
which we were attached), was short of transportation, the 
number of horses being small and most of them in a very 
weakened condition. A division warehouse was therefore 
created, to which each regiment sent its surplus supplies, such 
as harness, small arms ammunition, hand grenades and the 
baggage of officers lost in action. 



SARGENT A. PIERCE 187 

I was one of the two non-coms in charge of our company 
detail and we were ordered to report at the town of Aude- 
narde, where the warehouse had been established in a large, 
modern prison. This building had been used to billet troops 
by the Germans, who had fixed up the cells quite comfortably. 

When we got there we cleaned out one of the cells thor- 
oughly and tlie other non-com and I furnished it from the 
other cells, and it then looked fit for a king. It contained 
two straw pallets, three chairs, two tables, a vase of artificial 
fiowers on a stand in one corner, and about a dozen pictures, 
some of which were painted in water colors by the Germans. 
But best of all there were three buckets and a beauty little 
stove, with beaucoup wood. We had a bath every day and 
washed every stitch we owned two and three times, and for 
the first time in weeks we were free of cooties. 

This life only lasted two weeks, after which time we and 
the whole warehouse were moved back to Iseghem and in- 
stalled in an old shoe factory, where we just had sufficient 
water to drink and no fires. 

Two weeks more here and we again had to load all of our 
stuff on a train, about thirty-eight carloads, and set out for 
a town in France in the einbarkation area. When we started 
we did not know, nor do we believe that those in authority 
knew, where we were to detrain. We received different orders 
every day where to stop. We were on those box cars twelve 
days, during which time they ought to have had plenty of 
time to decide where to send us. 

Finally, on December 19th, we arrived at Le Ferte Ber- 
nard, but it was two days more before we were given a barn 
to use as our warehouse and where we could begin to unload 
and leave the box cars. It was some jaunt — twelve days in 
those cars, sleeping on the rough wood floors, with wide cracks 
affording plenty of ventilation. The French freight trains 
are not Quipped with airbrakes and often we were awakened 
at night by having our heads driven against the sides of the 
car when the engineers jammed on the brakes. During the 
day we had to watch our pots very carefully or the jolt from 
the brakes would jerk thorn from the stove, spilling the con- 
tents and putting the fire out. 



188 SARGENT A. PIERCE 

At Le Ferte Bernard we had to walk a mile and a half 
each way for meals at a casual mess and never got quite 
enough to eat. 

We were only supposed to guard the goods in our care, 
but while here we did everything pertaining to the army from 
M. P. duty to unloading coal cars, except digging trenches. 

As the different units came into this area they claimed 
their stuff and we gradually dwindled from about sixty to 
twenty. 

On Januarj^ 7th, our regimental detail, with its duffel, 
was loaded on a box ear, the rest of it having been salvaged, 
and we started for our own unit, arriving at Laval on Janu- 
ary 9th. We had to staj^ aboard the car in the yards until 
the 14th, as the regiment had not yet come down from Bel- 
gium. 

When we started we were only allowed two days rations 
and therefore we had a merry scramble for something to eat 
the other five days. We sold nearly everything we owned 
in order to obtain something warm. 

On January 15th I reported to my company at the little 
town of Entrammes, after being absent fifty-nine days. I 
was just getting acquainted again when I was ordered off on 
another detail, having only spent six days with my company. 

This time we went to a brigade veterinary hospital, which 
was just being established, to get our horses in such shape 
that they would bring good prices. They were full of sores, 
scratches, cooties and covered with mange. We were ma- 
rooned with forty of these beasts on a farm, many kilos from 
everywhere. We had to groom the animals twice a day and 
exercise them. Because of the lack of medical supplies, we 
were unable to start treating the animals until the thirty- 
fifth day, and I had my hands full with the men. They had 
become so discouraged that they had to be driven to every- 
thing and therefore I had the utmost difficulty to get the 
smallest order obeyed. 

During all this time we had been quartered on the second 
floor of one of the barns. The floor was of tile, set in mud, 
which, from coiistant walking back and forth, became loosened 
a)id occasionally fell through, leaviiig inimerous holes, many 



SARGENT A. PIERCE 189 

of them being large enough for a man to drop through, and 
sometimes we did. But the worst of these holes were the 
different odors they permitted to come up into our quarters. 
Our neighbors underneath were geese, ducks, chickens, sheep 
and last, but not least, pigs. The harmony of smells was 
never appreciated by us. 

After clipping all the horses we had to give them a wash, 
and when dry anoint them with a medicine that had as its 
base a heavy oil, which would not dry. Twice a day we had 
to rub them down with our hands. The animals were picketed 
so close that we touched them with our clothing every time 
we went near to feed or treat them and their bodies rubbed 
against us. Within a week our only uniforms were black 
from medicine and full of cooties. 

Two weeks later they received the second and last treat- 
ment and a week after that we started back to the company, 
it being the end of our second fifty-nine-day detail. 

During the time we were on this detail the rest of the 
regiment had been enjoying passes to Paris and other parts 
of France. That was one of the complaints of the hospital 
detail, but the officers in charge promised the men that they 
would be given preference over all others as soon as they 
returned to their units and had made such arrangements for 
them. 

"When we returned we found nothing had been done for 
US; in fact, we were so dirty we would have been picked up 
by the first M. P. had we strayed from camp. 

Clothing was so scarce that it was two weeks before we 
were anywhere near presentable, and then orders came through 
prohibiting any more passes. ;S'. 0. L. 

On April 1st, we received orders to prepare to move to 
Le Mans forwarding camp. We worked hard all day and 
night. The French were sorry to see us go as we had spent 
so much money. We breakfasted at 2 A. M. and at 4 A. M. 
we started our march of ten kilos to Laval, where we en- 
trained for Le Mans, some happy crew. 

We were at Le Mans from April 3d to April 19th, await- 
ing ships and undergoing physical examinations. 



190 SARGENT A. PIERCE 

We entrained April 19th, at 9.45 P. M., for St. Nazaire, 
arriving there on Easter Sunday, April 20th, at 11.30 A. M. 
We marched to Camp No. 2, where we had another inspec- 
tion. The next day we moved over to Camp No. 1, where 
we were again inspected. These inspections were some farces. 
We were herded into a large room, where we were stripped, 
and, with all of our clothes over one arm, we ran past a line 
of doctors, armed with flashlights, each having some special 
part of your anatomy to tend to. We were then hurried into 
another large room to dress so as to make room for those com- 
ing behind us. Most of our toilets were completed in the open. 

On April 30th, we embarked on the S. S. "Peerless," a 
converted Standard oiler. May 1st being a big holiday all 
over France, no Americans were allowed on the streets of 
any village or town, so the ship moved to outer harbor to 
await three of the ship's officers who were on leave. 

May 1st we turned our noses in the direction of the good 
old U. S. A., and the captain of the ship said he would try 
and break the ship's record. He succeeded, taking sixteen 
days to make the trip, thirteen days of rough going, making 
one night an average of one knot an hour for eight hours. 

We hit the Delaware Breakwater early on the morning 
of May 16th in a dense fog. We had to anchor till it lightened 
somewhat, and it was not until 6 P. M. that we docked at 
Pier 78, and 10 P. M. when we reached Camp Dix. 

The next day, Saturday, we were given our last official 
scrub and inspection, and that evening passes were issued 
us until Monday morning. 

It did not take us long to get to Philadelphia. After a 
week's signing of papers we were finally discharged and paid 
off Saturday, May 24, 1919. 

I am officially credited as having been in the following 
offensives : 

Fismes-Vesle sector, from August 8th to August 18th. 

Oise-Aisne offensive, August 18th to September 8th. 

Meuse-Argonne offensive, September 26th to October 10th. 

Ypres-Lys offensive, October 31st to November 11th. 

Sargent A. Pierce. 




PHOTO BY BACHRACH 



J^^^^ (& 




JOHN PURDY 

aO one could imagine the feelings experienced by a per- 
son taking over a practically entire new life except 
one who has done so. This is what happened to me 
when I left my home and Young, Smyth, Field Co. 
to go away. 

After being inducted in the army I left Philadelphia 
on May 26, 1918, and went to Camp Meade, where we found 
life quite different from our regular routine at home. After 
being outfitted and drilled daily for a month, we began to 
crave the excitement of the other side and were awaiting the 
call. For the next two weeks we had daily inspection, at the 
end of which time, on July 7th, we left for Hoboken, N. J. 
We were greeted at Baltimore by crowds of people, but found 
Philadelphia the place of most interest to us. We passed 
through there at 1 o'clock Monday morning, and, in spite of 
the hour, the mothers and friends of the boys were there to 
give us a final word of cheer. 

At 6 o'clock, on the evening of July 9th, we sailed from 
Hoboken, on the "Agamemnon," one of the largest boats used 
as a transport, carrying six thousand passengers. 

We found conditions rather crowded, two men using one 
bunk, and some sleeping during the day and others at night. 
As my bunk was at the head of the stairs, leading to the mess 
hall, I was somewhat uncomfortable, as the odor of each meal 
drifted my way. 

We found the trip pleasant in regard to weather condi- 
tions and had only one bit of excitement. On the seventh day 
at sea, at about 5.30 in the evening, we had abandon ship 
drill, which we had daily. 

(191) 



192 JOHN PURDY 



On this particular day, we found out later, it had been 
the real thing. A submarine had been sighted and after 
one of the submarine destroyers, of which twelve accompanied 
us, dropped depth bombs, we continued on our way, with no 
more trouble, and dropped anchor in Brest harbor on July 
18th, at 4.30 in the afternoon. We stayed on board all night 
and the following morning we unloaded into a small French 
boat, on the order of our ferry boats, which took us ashore. 

We immediately hiked to a rest camp, five miles away, 
where we received our first meal, which consisted of bacon, 
potatoes and coffee. After eating, we pitched tents, prepar- 
ing to spend our first night in France. We spread our 
blankets on the ground regardless of the rain, which had 
started while we were pitching our tents, and slept on land 
our first sleep for nine days. On awakening in the morning 
we found the mud about six inches deep, but as we did prac- 
tically nothing in the line of work or drilling, we did not 
find it so hard to endure. We stayed here till 3 o'clock the 
following morning, when we rolled our packs, and, just as 
the sun rose, we might mention it rises here at three, we 
started our hike back to Brest, arriving there about 6 o'clock. 

We there found box cars waiting to carry us on our jour- 
ney to the training area. After boarding these cars, with 
rations to last for four days, and forty men getting into each 
car, we left Brest about 8 o'clock. We continued our trip, 
spending our nights in the cars. We found sleeping condi- 
tions pretty poor those three nights, as our beds were the 
floor of the cars and we slept in our clothes. The riding was 
very rough and our packs as pillows were not any too soft. 
Our rations for these four days consisted of beans, tomatoes, 
hard tack and jam, all cold and no coffee as we had no 
facilities for cooking. 

At the end of three nights and four days we had traveled 
a distance of seven hundred miles, and about 5 o'clock in the 
afternoon we arrived at Vaux, a little town about thirty miles 
from Is-sur-tille, a great railroad center. After unloading 
our barrack bags we piled them beside the station, twenty 
men, myself included, staying till the following morning 
guarding them. The rest of the outfit marched to a little 



JOHN PURDY 193 



towii about eight miles to the east, where they prepared to 
take up the course of training given on the other side. 

After guarding the bags all night we loaded them on auto 
trucks and started out to join the rest of our company. The 
first few days were spent in policing up the town and our 
billets, preparatory to spending some . time at this training- 
center. 

On the third day we started training, rising each morning 
at 5.30, being allowed fifteen minutes before breakfast and 
having drill call at 6 o'clock. We then drilled till 11.30, 
when we stopped for lunch, starting to drill again at 1.15 and 
continuing till 4.30, when we were finished for the day. This 
same routine continued for three weeks, at the end of which 
time I was sent to the Divisional Intelligence School in a 
little town about three miles away from the training area. 
We remained there for two weeks, studying the compass and 
map-drawing. From there we returned to the training center, 
where we remained for a week following the course of instruc- 
tion received at school. At the end of the week I was sent 
to divisional headquarters, where I was made divisional 
observer, putting into practice the instruction received the 
preceding weeks. 

The duties of an observer consisted of taking note of the 
position of German lines and all rear movements, the daily 
routine of the enemy, their hours for eating as well as for 
working, and any other information we could obtain. These 
observations were taken in three different ways, by airplane, 
balloon and from the ground. For ground observation we 
used trees, houses, or anything elevated enough to give us a 
fair view of the front. For this work we used telescopes, 
through which we could see for a distance of twenty miles. 
I stayed here for seven days and about September 1st the 
division again loaded in box cars, similar to the last, for a 
two-day trip, which would bring us to the front. We ended 
our box-car journey in Eevigny, unloading our packs and 
spending our first night there in the freight shed. The next 
morning we loaded motor trucks and continued on our way 
to Robert-Espgne, a distance of about seven miles. Here we 
billeted for about five days, doing nothing but sleeping and 



194 JOHN PURDY 



eating. At the end of the fifth day we again loaded motor 
trucks, driven by the French, and moved north to Blercourt, 
riding from 8 in the evening till 4 in the morning. We 
stayed here two days and on Friday, September 13th, we 
left, again in motor trucks, for the front lines, which were 
about fifteen miles away. 

After arriving at the front two others and myself took 
over a French observation post. This post was of concrete, 
built in a hill under ground a distance of twenty-five feet. 
There were two compartments, the living quarters which were 
below and the observation quarters above. P^'rom one side of 
this top compartment there was a hole about two feet wide 
and six inches high made for the purpose of observation. On 
the top of the hill was an entrance camouflaged by branches 
of trees, and on the opposite side of the post was another en- 
trance made possible by a passage about eight feet long and 
about two and a half feet high, through which we had to 
crawl. 

The living quarters were provided with wooden bunks, 
a couple of tables and stools. The whole post was fitted out 
with gas-proof curtains covering openings in case of attack. 

We remained here for eight days, having but two meals 
each day, which consisted mostly of corned beef, potatoes, 
bread and coffee. 

During our stay here we worked in shifts, dividing our 
time on duty, changing every four hours. 

At the end of the eight days we were relieved by the 35th 
Division. After its arrival I was sent to another post, about 
five miles away on the same front, this post being quite dif- 
ferent from the other. 

In place of being built under ground, it was built in the 
form of a scaffold on the side of a large oak tree. Here there 
were four of us on guard, working in three-hour shifts. Our 
living quarters here consisted of a small house built of corru- 
gated iron upon the ground. 

On the night of September 251,11, one of the largest drives 
of the war opened up. I was on duty at the time and had a 
clear view of the flare of the shells as they bursted. I re- 
mained up all night, accompanied by two Majors. Sleep was 



JOHN PURDY 195 



impossible as the noise was so great. We had to yell to be 
heard. About a half square behind the post the fourteen-inch 
naval guns fired every few minutes, besides other guns all 
around even closer than they. This kept up all night and at 
5.30 in the morning the infantry went over the top. At 10.30 
we packed up and advanced. After walking until 8 in the 
evening, without anything to eat, we bumped into a kitchen, 
where we found bread and coffee very palatable. We then 
entered a dug-out and laid down to sleep. After sleeping 
for about one hour the Captain wakened us in order that we 
continue the advance. We hiked over shell-torn ground till 
1 o'clock in the morning, when we halted at the town of 
Malancourt. 

Upon arriving here, we crawled under machine gun carts 
and went to sleep. We awoke next morning at 4.30, shiver- 
ing with cold, and walked around for about an hour trying 
to get warm and trying also to locate some place where we 
might get a cup of coffee. After finding these comforts we 
continued to move forward all day without anything further 
to eat, till at 8 in the evening, when we came to the town of 
IMontfaucon. We quartered in a chateau here for the follow- 
ing four days and used the roof of the chateau for an ob- 
servation post. It was the same house that the Germans had 
used as an observation post before we made the advance. 
The telescope which we captured here was one of the largest 
made, costing about $10,000. It was left behind by the Ger- 
mans, being too large to be taken with them. 

One day while here a shell hit the roof, taking away one 
corner of the building and shattering the telescopes we used. 
Fortunately, no one was on the roof at the time and therefore 
no one was injured. 

On the 1st of October we were relieved and started out at 
() in the evening for a twelve-mile hike back to the Division 
Headquarters. We arrived there at 2 o'clopk the following 
morning. We were given a hearty welcome here by our pals, 
who got out of their bunks, lighted a fire and made a roast for 
us. They treated us to jam and candy and made room for us to 
sleep with them. We stayed here for about three days, during 
which time we took life easy. 



196 JOHN PURDY 



We had never had an officer over us while on observation 
duty and the second night of our stay here Kingdon Gould 
introduced himself as our Lieutenant by coming into our 
billet and asking each one of us our names individually, say- 
ing now, "This is Purdy, now this is Pennington," till he 
went over each of the seven names. We had another officer 
during our stay here who was very good to us. Each night 
he would bring us either bread or jam in appreciation of us 
putting his boots by our fire to dry. 

While wandering down the street here one day I bumped 
into John Kendle, and we enjoyed a good chat. 



Crown Prince Observation House Captured by 79th Division, Sep- 
tember, 1918, Montfaucon, France — German Telescope 
Found in This House Valued at $10,000 

After staying here several days we started in auto trucks 
for Thillombois, which took us a half day to reach. 

We billeted here in a hay loft, doing nothing but resting 
and amusing ourselves as best we could. During our stay 
here we arranged a little party one day. Eight of us walked 
about five miles and purchased two chickens and brought 
them back to be cooked, and looked forward in expectation of 
a treat. We then took them to a French woman of our ac- 
quaintance to have them cooked. At 6 o'clock we went into 
supper. The chickens were prepared, the French fried pota- 
toes and bread and wine were spread out for us. 



JOHN PURDY 19? 



We sat down to enjoy this meal, but found that the heads 
and feet of the chicken had been cooked with the rest. Need- 
less to say, this took away our appetites at once. 

We stayed at Tliillombois five days, then moved by motor 
car to a front fifty miles distant, called the "quiet sector," 
the name being not at all appropriate, as can be seen by the 
fact that nine hundred shells fell on this front during one 
day. We here took over another observation post and re- 
lieved the 26th Division. Our billet here was the cutest one 
we had while away. 

It was as though we were being in a little bungalow. It 
was built of boards and had one fioor, which was divided into 
three rooms. We used these for sleeping, having small iron 
beds, and did our cooking and eating on the outside. I did 
most of the cooking for the bunch here, making them hot 
cakes each morning, and having my own troubles with our 
Lieutenant, who would invariably come to me for more cakes. 
He took it very good naturedly, however, when told that he 
could have no more until the others were served. 

This cottage had previously been occupied by German 
officers. The observation post we had there was built in a 
tree and under natural conditions would be hidden by leaves. 
The leaves, however, had started to fall, and obviously the 
post was open to view. We therefore had to built another 
post, which we did, but in the ground. We dug down about 
four feet and built one room of wood. We used elephant iron 
for a roof, part of the room being above the ground. In- 
side this room, which was about four feet wide and six feet 
long, was a desk, two chairs and a bunk. Taking all into 
consideration, we had better conditions here than at any other 
place. 

We stayed here till the 25th of October, when we were 
relieved by the 83d Division, and started back as far as 
Troyon. We made ourselves comfortable here in the office 
for the night and started the next morning in staff cars for 
Dieue, where we stayed for several days. 

On October 28th, we started out again in staff cars for 
Vacherauville, the Divisional Post Command going to Ver- 
dun. We stopped here for something to eat, to rest and 



198 JOHN PURDY 



receive further orders. While resting here, along the side of 
the road, we were greeted by three or four German shells, 
whicli bursted so close to us that the dirt from the holes they 
made fell all over us. We were sleeping at the time and 
awoke to find ourselves nearly covered with dirt. 

We spent the night here, sleeping in a deserted wine cellar, 
tlie dampness dripping down on us. The next morning we 
started to hike to the front lines, a distance of about eight 
miles. We had several very narrow escapes on the way. 
While going through the town of Barbant a shell hit the 
town, one large piece dropping directly between my buddy 
and myself. Again right on the outskirts of the town, not 
a half square away, a shell fell and burst on two automobiles. 
It smashed them to pieces. We continued on our wa}^ till 
we came to a wood, where the Regimental Post Command was 
located. Upon reaching here the Captain gave us a "runner" 
to show us where our dug-out was located. We made this 
dug-out our home for thirteen days. It was only about a 
quarter mile from the front-line trenches, so close that the 
bullets, if they did not hit the ground, went over our heads. 

This dug-out was quite different from any we had as yet 
occupied. It was in reality two dug-outs, connected by a 
passageway, one room having five bunks and the other four. 
There were many days while we stayed on this front when 
we had neither food nor drink. Water was very scarce and 
we could neither wash nor shave for the whole thirteen days. 

We were under heavy shell-fire continuously until No- 
vember 9th. That morning it seemed that the whole world 
had changed. The sun was shining, not a shell had been 
dropped. The reason for this was the fact that the infantry 
had advanced so far that morning that the sound of the firing 
was dim. This quietness continued all that day and the next, 
and on the morning of November 11th, after scouting around 
looking for something to eat, I came to a kitchen and asked 
for the Sergeant in charge. To my surprise I found it was 
Wendell Walker. Needless to say, I was not hungry after 
this meeting. After eating I talked with Walker, not failing 
to mention at the time the fact that I had heard tliat morning 
that the war would not last much longer. We stayed around 



JOHN PURDY 199 



there till 11 o'clock and then started out in staff ears for the 
front lines. We stopped at Hill No. 319 and, much to my 
surprise, I met another old friend for the second time, John 
Kendle. We had a little chat and talked about the time we 
would be home and not at all sorr}^ to think it would be soon. 

That night we celebrated the signing of the armistice. 
The fireworks put off along the front were beautiful, but the 
best of all was the fact that we went to bed and enjoyed one 
of the best night's sleep we had had for some time. Every- 
thing was calm and quiet, something which we all needed. 

The following morning we started taking observation of 
the Germans moving back into Germany. This we continued 
for ten days, at the same time finding it quite interesting 
watching the German trucks and wagons transporting the 
supplies. At the end of this time we were moved back about 
fifteen miles to a little town by the name of Dugny, consist- 
ing of about twenty houses. Here we stayed until December 
20th, doing nothing but eating and sleeping. We spent our 
Thanksgiving, 1918, at this town, having a very good dinner, 
goose, mashed potatoes, corn, celery, pumpkin pie and white 
grapes. From Dugny we went to Meaxour Farms, a dis- 
tance of about twenty miles, where the divisional instruction 
center was to be located. The school was situated on the side 
of a hill, made up of a large number of small buildings, and 
had been used previously by the Germans as a rest camp. 
All the water used here had to be carried a mile or more. 

The instructions given here were on machine guns, hand 
grenades, millimeter and Stokes' motor and the men were 
required to spend one week at this school. 

My work here was driving a truck hauling rations for the 
school. About midnight, Christmas eve two buddies, and my- 
self were asleep in our bunks when the mail carrier came and 
aroused us by calling Purdy and Pennington. After getting 
up and lighting our lanterns we were presented with Christ- 
mas boxes from home. We opened them and after enjoying 
the contents and having a chat we returned to our bunks. 
The next morning four of us loaded in my truck and we went 
back to Divisional Headquarters for Christmas dinner. This 
we had at 1 o'clock, and after the two and a half hour drive 



200 JOHN PURDY 



we could do it justice. From here we started back to the 
school, having to change three tires before our start. 

The school continued here till the first of the year. We 
then moved back about twenty miles, I still continuing the 
same work ; the Division Headquarters being located at Souil- 
ley and the school being about eight miles from there in the 
woods. The courses at the school continued just the same. 
The other truck driver and I made our headquarters there, 
having a room fitted up for us with a table, chairs, stove and 
bunks. We stayed there working just the same till March 
1st, when I was taken with the "flu." After being doctored 
for about seven days I started out for Nice, traveling third 
class for three days, leaving Souilly on the 7th, reaching Is-sur- 
Tille on the morning of the 8th, spending the day there wait- 
ing for trains. I started out again at 10 and passed through 
Lyon on the 9th and Marseilles on the morning of the 10th, 
and arrived at Nice the noon of that day. Upon arrival there 
I was marched over to the town Major, who gave us our hotel, 
where we were to spend the next ten days. This hotel, the 
Beau-Rivage, is one of the best in Nice. Our living here 
began to feel something like the old life at home. We slept in 
beds with springs and had conveniences as in the best hotels. 
The hours for meals were : 8 to 9 for breakfast, lunch 12 to 1 
and dinner 5 to 5.30. 

We spent most of our time here taking in the places of 
interest, some of which are beautiful. The Le Grand and 
Du Pare Imperial were other large hotels in Nice. Another 
structure of beauty and interest is the Promenade des 
Anglais, formerly a gambling house, but used during the war 
by the Y. M. C. A. 

While in Nice we made up a party of seven and hired an 
automobile for the day, starting out in the morning for tlie 
trip to Monte Carlo. On our way we traveled along the 
water front, taking advantage of all scenery, and arrived at 
Monte Carlo about 8.30. We then started on a sight-seeing 
tour, beginning with the Casino, the largest gambling house 
in the world, and its beauty is so great one could not describe 
it. Inside there were three or four rooms with five or six 
roulette tables in each. 



JOHN PURDY 201 



We then visited the Japanese Gardens. After spending 
time enough in Monte Carlo to see the other places of interest 
we journeyed on to the Island of Monaco, which at one time 
was a little settlement of its own. We visited the museum 
and Cathedral, both being beautiful in architecture and 
adornment. The little settlement of Monaco is situated on a 
hill, with the roads winding up to the summit, at which is 
located the Prince of Monaco's Palace. It is built like a fort, 
with two large gates at the entrance, and the soldiers look 
not at all unlike toy tin soldiers in their different colored 
uniforms and regalias. 

From here we returned again to Nice, taking the way 
around the mountains. We were comfortable in our over- 
coats as we neared the summit. 

The journey took us three hours. We arrived at Nice 
about 5.30 P. M. After ten days at Nice we returned to 
our outfits in Souilly. Upon our arrival there we received 
good news — our division was to start moving in a few days 
toward the seaport. 

Our first move was to Reynel, where we remained a month, 
doing nothing but eating and sleeping and enjoying the sights 
of the beautiful country. From Reynel we went in a Ford 
truck to Nantes, passing through the largest towns in France, 
among them Chaumont, where General Pershing's headquar- 
ters were located; Troyes and Sens, where we arrived about 
4 o'clock in the afternoon. Here we met other soldiers, and, 
not having had anything to eat so far that day, the soldiers 
took us to their company on the outskirts of the town and 
treated us to supper. We then left for Montargis, where we 
spent the night. Upon our arrival there we met quite a 
number of French girls, and as luck would have it they were 
giving a dance that evening and of course we all went. 

W"e were compelled to sleep in our truck that night, even 
though the weather was freezing. The next morning we left 
for Orleans, and from Orleans to P>lois, and then to Cha- 
teaurenault, where we stayed all night. The next morning 
we left for Bauge, and from there we went to Angers and 
then on to St. Georges, where we spent the night. We ar- 
rived at Nantes the following noon and stayed at a small 



202 JOHN PURDY 



town called Reze for one month, making oiir headquarters 
in a stable located in the backyard of a school house. While 
here we had lots of amusement with the school children. 

We left Reze on the 12th of May for St. Nazaire, where 
we stayed for one week, and left on May 19th for home. 

During our week's stay at St. Nazaire we went through 
the "mad house," as the doughboys called it. This consti- 
tuted the method for ridding the clothing of cooties. It was 
done by putting them through a steaming process, which 
killed anything and everything that was on the clothes. 

On the 19th we went aboard the "Kroonland" and started 
our journey homeward. During the first three days at sea 
we had a bad storm and about 75 per cent, of the boys were 
seasick. We received very poor meals while on board. We 
had beans and sausage twice a day, oatmeal without sugar 
or milk. 

On the morning of May 29th we pulled into the New York 
harbor. We were all happy to see the U, S. again. At quar- 
ter past nine we docked, unloaded, and, after being checked 
up to see that no one was missing, we were marched to the Red 
Cross building, where we were treated to cocoa, pie and cake. 
We then were taken to Jersey City. All along the way we 
were greeted by friends. 

We arrived at Camp Dix about 2 o'clock in the after- 
noon. After supper I tried for four hours to get my mother 
on the phone and I once again met John Kendle, who was 
trying to do the same thing. Next day my mother and sister 
came over to see me. 

I remained at Camp Dix until June 7th, meanwhile being 
deloused as we called it. We turned in all our equipment 
and went through a physical examination, and then went to 
the ''paper factory," our original name for the building where 
they made out the discharges. 

On June 7th I received my discharge. 



John TT. Pttrdy. 



CHARLES B. RAPP 



XN May, 1917, I was fortunate enough, along with some 
other men, to enter the Officers' Training Camp at 
Fort Niagara, New York. Here for the better part 
of three months we were supposed to try to learn 
what the Government required to become an officer in the 
army. It was odd to note the difference in the number of the 
class at the end of two months in comparison to the number 
that originally started. 

During the last month of that period I became very much 
enthused over photographs and advertisements of the Avia- 
tion School, which were posted around the camp and bar- 
racks. Partly because of these and partly because of the fact 
that the commanding officer had discovered that I was under 
the age required to be an officer in the army, I made every 
effort to enlist in this branch of the service. Consequently, 
after taking an examination which lasted eight hours and 
after going through numerous other trials of similar nature, 
I was shipped to Cornell University, Ithaca, N. Y., where the 
Government put up one of its first ground schools. For 
about eight weeks our class struggled along through the vari- 
ous studies, such as astronomy and meterology, which the 
Government decided were quite necessary in the aviation serv- 
ice, but which afterward proved to be absolutely useless. 

Every week at least one member of the class was dropped, 
generally because he failed to pass the intensive examination 
at an altitude of 5,000 feet above sea level. At the end of 
our course the twenty- two who were left out of the thirty- 
eight original men were supposed to know enough to enter 
a Flying School. 

(203) 



204 CHARLES B. RAPP 



At this time we all had the opportunity of volunteering 
for overseas duty, and of course every one grabbed it and, 
after a four days' leave of absence, we were taken to IIo- 
boken, N. J., and at the dismal hour of 4.30 A. M. we were 
put on board the S. S. ''Manchuria." For the first time in 
the history of our army experience we struck it soft. During 
fourteen days we lounged around the steamer, two hundred 
and forty flier candidates in all — each one having a state- 
room, but, better than this, we had a full seven-course meal 
twice a day and whatever one wanted for breakfast. If any 
one ever tired of eating there was a luxurious bar, which was 
well patronized after we left the three-mile limit. 

One morning we awoke to find ourselves in the Irish Sea. 
It was a stormy day; in fact the storm was so bad that we 
had to go to Belfast until the sea calmed down. Next day 
we steamed away and soon docked at Liverpool, England. 
After leaving there we went to a very dirty, cold, dreary 
English camp at Southampton, England, We were all glad 
when we were put aboard the S. S. "Ceasaria," in which one 
night at 9 we started for France, accompanied by a small 
flotilla of boats, sub-destroyers. About one hour out two sub- 
marines appeared, much to the delight of all aboard. Due 
to the ability of the Britishers these two U-boats disappeared 
without operating, but instead of continuing our course we 
went back to England. About the same hour the following 
evening we started out again and crossed to Havre, France, 
without any further disturbances. 

Leaving Havre we traveled forty-eight hours in freiglit 
ears without food or drink, except what we could steal. 

Finally, we arrived in Issoudun, France, the largest flj^ing 
school in Europe. Here, because of a number of student 
fliers, all waiting training, for the next five months we made 
roads, dug ditches, built barracks, etc. We slept in unused 
hangars in ten inches of mud and rain water. After enduring 
this for about six months we were sent to Toul to be commis- 
sioned fliers under the French. 

Two months later the most of us were commissioned aerial 
fliers and awaited further instructions, which we received 
when sent back to Issoudun. From there we were finally sent 



CHARLES B. RAPP 



205 



to Paris for aerial gunnery. Here we had our lirst opportu- 
nity of getting- our hands on automatic gunn(.:ry and shot 
practically everything in sight. We had sometimes as many 
as five funerals in a day, because the mist was so dense that 
one could not see any distance. 

Right after this a number of us were sent to llomorantin 
as ferry pilots and were assigned to new D H 4 recently ar- 
rived from the United States. It was on this job that we 
saw all parts of France, Belgium and Italy, as we were at 
liberty to fly at any time and any place as long a;i we accom- 
plished our mission. The best 
of this job was taking these 
machines from Ford Junction, 
Colombey les Belles, on the 
Toul sector. Of course, it goes 
without saying that whenever 
possible we put in all our spare 
hours in Paris, the Mecca of the 
Expeditionary Forces (enough 
said). It was not until October, 
1918, that we joined the bomb- 
ing squad on the Toul sector. 
Here for the next few weeks we 
endeavored to demolish every- 
thing of military appearance on 
the other side of the lines, while 
dodging the bombs and filling 
with lead any Hun who was 
foolish enough to make an ap- 
pearance. 

Aerial duels at this stage of the game were few and far 
between, as the Hun chasseed and the bombing sector was 
practically null. Therefore, things were rather dead. 

It was at this time that I succeeded in getting mixed up 
with shrapnel at a distance of 6,000 feet and was forced to 
come down under control. Later I learned that the battery 
was an American unit, who could not see and therefore could 
not make out to what service I belonged, because it was hazy 
and getting dark, as it happened late in the afternoon. 




Charles B. Rapp ready for 
a flight 



206 CHARLES B. RAPP 



On November 11th, when we heard the news at 5.45 (the 
glad news), we were given permission to go to Paris for a 
four-day leave, after which we at once put in our names with 
a request to be released and sent home. This came about Feb- 
ruary, 1919. Through the kindness of the British, Avho fur- 
nished a boat, the S. S. "Cedric," we once again lived like 
civilians, gaining weight rapidly, owing to the three large 
meals a day that they gave us. 

A few days after landing in the United States, about the 
middle of February, I obtained my discharge (an honorable 
one at that). 

I have a great deal of compunction in regard to the above, 
inasmuch as I was sent over there to fight in the air and not 
to have a good time as one might think. Everything, how- 
ever, was not three meals a day, nor in fact was flying always 
in the sunny blue skies. 

I regret that I have no Huns to my credit, but I did suc- 
ceed in bringing down eight machines and unfortunately they 
were all either American or French, but of the eight machines 
five were totally demolished, each time landing me in the 
hospital for a so-called rest cure. When one thinks that each 
machine cost from twenty thousand to twenty-eight thousand 
dollars, he will readily realize why all the Liberty Bonds were 
put out. However, I really cannot be blamed for all of it, be- 
cause, as the French would say, "C'est la Guerre." (It is war.) 



Charles B. Rapp. 






aUf'ytd'<T7^ 



HARRY E. ROBINSON 



XlLEPT Philadelphia for Camp Sherman, Chillicothe, 
Ohio, on Sunday, August 5, 1918. On our arrival 
ggggj at camp we were compelled to walk one mile for our 
eats. This at the time I thought to be a great hard- 
ship. On my second night at camp I had a wonderful experi- 
ence. There came up a terrific sandstorm, which wrecked the 
stables and did much damage. We were aroused from our 
silent slumber about 12 o'clock midnight, only to be put to 
the task of running down the scared horses. From this time 
on I really began to find out that I was a soldier at last. I 
had often longed to be a boy in khaki ever since my play days. 

After clearing our cots of sand and securing our tents 
we were, in a little while, all snug and sound asleep again. 

Luck seemed to be with me for the next month, as I was 
appointed to be a non-commissioned officer on October 3, 1919. 

A few weeks passed by and my captain seemed to gain 
confidence in me for some reason, and so it happened one 
night that a comrade stole away from camp, and upon whom 
should the honor fall for catching the prisoner but myself. 

I started out heavily armed and did not hesitate in the 
pursuit of my duties, and finally, after three days of travel- 
ing, I arrived at Little Rock, Ark., the home town of the run- 
away, and with orders in my possession I presented them and 
brought him back to camp. 

(207) 



208 



HARRY E. ROBINSON 



Shortly after that the epidemic of influenza broke out over 
the camp. Everything was turned into hospitals. I con- 
tracted a heavy cold, resulting in this frightful malady. On 
my recovery I was ordered to help attend the sick, one of my 
patients dying. 

I was sent with his body to Memphis, Tenn. Upon return- 
ing to camp all the time was consumed in preparations for 





About one hundred worship- 
ers were killed in this Church 
March 29, 1918, by the bom- 
bardment of Paris by German 
Long Range Guns. 



Vacherauville Canal, France — 
Hard fighting was encountered 
for many miles along the banks 
of this Canal — Germans finally 
driven from this sector. 



"overseas." We drilled hard and long. On receiving orders 
to be ready to leave camp, of course we then knew that it 
meant to sail. All the boys seemed very happy after receiving 
this news. However, it was not long before we were disap- 
pointed, as the signing of the armistice on November 11th kept 
us on this side. 

It was soon after this that I received my discharge. 



Harry E. Robinson. 




PHOTO BY BACHRACH 



WILLIAM KEAN ROBINSON 



1 ENLISTED on May 15, 1918, and entered the fourth 

^^ Officers' Training Station, at Camp Meade, Md., and 
Sfi^S in June, 1918, I was transferred to the Commissioned 
Officers' Machine Gun Training* School, at Camp Han- 
cock, Ga. I was again transferred in September to the Army 
Medical School at Washington, D. C, and in December I was 
assigned to the Base Hospital at Camp Taylor, Ky. 

I was discharged on March 5, 1919, from Camp Taylor. 

William Kean Robinson. 




(209) 



I 



ARTHUR D. SANFORD 

ENLISTED in Philadelphia in the Quartermaster's Corps 
of the United States Army, on the 9th of May, 1918. 
After enlisting I was sent to Fort Slocum, New York, 
the 11th of May, 1918. I was stationed there until 
the 5th of June, 1918, then transferred to Camp Meigs, Wash- 
ington, D. C, arriving there on the 6th of June, 1918. On Au- 
gust 30th I was transferred to the 321st Mobile Laundry Unit, 
which was about to leave for France. On the 31st of August 
we left Camp Meigs for Camp Merritt, New Jersey, and ar- 
rived there the same day. On August 31st we packed our 
equipment and started on a four-mile hike. We arrived at 
the Alpine Landing, near Hoboken, N. J., where we embarked 
on the H. M. S. ''Nevassa," an English transport. We stayed 
at Hoboken until 4 A. M., the 1st of September, when we 
lifted anchor and started on our long voyage across the great 
Atlantic. There was nothing of any importance that hap- 
pened on our voyage, except on the afternoon of September 
10th, when we encountered what was thought to be a sub- 
marine. We shot at it, but later found it to be nothing but 
a water-spout. One of the officers during this incident died 
from heart failure. 

We came in sight of land on the morning of September 
13th. We thought we were looking at France, but we were 
sailing along the Irish coast. At 11 o'clock the same day we 
arrived in the harbor of Glasgow, Scotland. We embarked 
at 4 P. M. in Glasgow and left the same day by train for 
Romsey, England, arriving in Romsey on the morning of the 
14th of September. We stayed in Romsey one day and on 
the 15th started on a hike to Southampton, England. We 
arrived in Southampton about 4 P. M. and embarked in an 
English cattle boat for Le Havre, France. We arrived in 
Le Havre on the 17th and stayed there over night. The next 
morning we left for Baune, France. After arriving in Baune 

(211) 



212 



ARTHUR D. SANFORD 



the 21st of September I was transferred to the 303d Mobile 
Laundry Unit. We built a stationary laundry in Baune and 
I stayed with this outfit about one month. I then asked to 
be transferred to the 77th Field Artillery, 4th Division, which 
was granted, and I was transferred to this command on the 
5th, of October, 1918. We started for the Chateau Thierry 
front and arrived there on the 16th of October. We stayed 
on the front until the armistice was signed on the 11th of No- 
vember, 1918. We stayed in France about one month and then 
we started on a march to West Trier, Germany. We arrived 




German Tank Captured by the French — On Exhibition in Paris 

in West Trier on the 5th of January, 1919. We left by train 
for Kaisersesch, Germany, and arrived there on the 15th of 
January. On the 14th of February I was put out on detached 
service with the Sales Commissary in Coblentz, Germany. As 
soon as I arrived at Coblentz I put in for a discharge and 
received it on the 16th of May, 1919, and then started for 
Brest, France, where I embarked for U. S. A. I landed at 
Newport News, Va., on the 10th of June. I stayed there until 
the 12th and left for Camp Lee, I*etersburg, where I was dis- 
charged on the 14th of June, 1919, and re-enlisted September 
2, 1919, in the U. S. Navy for a term of two years. 



Arthur D. Sanford. 




PHOTO BY BACHRACH 






C-^Om..^'0-^ 




GEORGE F. SCANLON 



IROjM October 12, 1918, until December 2, 1918, I was 
I in the service, assigned to the Office of Quartermaster 

V^Sa General, Clothing and Equipage Division, New York. 
During that time I was detailed to the following zone 

supply offices and camps on duties pertaining to the purchase 

and inspection of supplies : 



Governor's Island. 
Fort Jay. 
Camp JNIerritt. 
Camp Dix. 
Boston. 
Cambridge. 
Camp Upton. 
Philadelphia. 
Baltimore. 



Washington. 

Camp Humphries. 

Chicago. 

Camp Grant. 

St. Louis. 

Louisville. 

Camp Zachary Taylor. 

Jeffersonville. 

Fort Benj. Harrison. 



George F. Scanlon. 




[213) 



X 



G. LEWIS SCHAFFER 

T is far harder to pick up my pen and describe my ex- 
periences while in the service than walk a four-hour 
guard or stand a "trick at wheel," but I trust that you 
will bear with me through this short narrative, even 
though it be very uninteresting and uneventful, for I cannot 
count myself among the fortunate ones who saw service "over- 
seas." 

On May 8, 1917, I enlisted in the Naval Reserve, expecting 
to see active duty in a few days, but instead I waited through- 
out the summer for the "glad word," which came at last on 
September 38th, in the form of an order to report to Wissa- 
hickon Barracks Training Station, Cape May, N. J. 

The following day, with a hundred other would-be sailors, 
I set sail for lands unknown. Of course, we went through 
the usual physical examinations and were turned loose at 
last, minus "civies," into the perpetual grind. 

I staj^ed in this dizzj- swirl for three months, where it was 
just drill, classes and more drill, until one day, December 
loth, I was transferred to the Naval Air Station. 

Shortly after my arrival at this place we were quaran- 
tined and confined to quarters owing to an outbreak of scarlet 
fever, and for about two weeks we led the proverbial "Life 

(215) 



216 G. LEWIS SCHAFFER 



of Reilly." The cooks brought us our "chow" and handed it 
through the windows, where the motto was : "He who grabs 
best eats best." 

The Y. M. C. A. provided us with reading matter, Vic- 
trola and other forms of amusement and not a few were sorry 
when finally they turned us loose on the coal pile. 

Shortly afterward, about January 1, 1918, I was trans- 
ferred to the Section Base at Sewell's Point, where for about 
six weeks I varied the monoton}^ by alternately standing guard 




The Tanker "Herbert L. Pratt," which Struck a German Mine 

off the Delaware Capes — Several Days Later this Vessel was 

Raised and Towed up the Delaware for Repairs 

and engaging in working parties, whose favorite job was 
tickling a coal pile with an Irish banjo. Then after a week 
on the rifle range I was moved to the station's boat crew, 
where I spent most of the winter. There couldn't have been 
a better place to spend it, as there were only eight of us in 
the bunch and we lived in a small house on the dock. There 
were several real sailors in the crew, so that after a hard day's 
work we were often entertained by a yarn told as only an old 
"salt" can tell them. 



G. LEWIS SCHAFFER 217 

I learned many tricks of the trade while on this detail 
and wasi finally called upon to use them when I was trans- 
ferred to the U. S. S. P. 83, attached to the anti-submarine 
fleet. Going to sea in one of these "chaser" type boats is real 
sport, if you are not affected by seasickness, for half the time 
you are under the water and the other half on top. 

Again mentioning that word seasickness, let me say that 
the funniest thing I have ever seen while in the service was a 
commissioned officer hanging limply over the rail, supported 
by a strong-armed "gob." 

Throughout the entire summer of 1918 I remained on this 
detail, and, if you will recall, this was the summer the German 
submarines made their appearance off our shores. However, 
at that time, of course, little of the real happenings ever came 
to the knowledge of the public. But let me say that their 
visits were not an uncommon occurrence. Of course, you will 
recall the "Herbert L. Pratt" disaster when she struck a float- 
ing mine and scattered her cargo of crude oil upon the seas. 
No sooner would word be received at the base that a submarine 
was operating in our section than about fifty chasers and 
destroyers would speed out, while above seven or eight sea- 
planes would be hovering in quest of the German U-boat. 

However, all good things must of course come to an end, 
so it was in the fall of this year, as we all well remember, that 
the armistice was signed and we were immediately ordered 
to put our "wagon" out of commission. 

After completing this job our whole crew was sent to 
Lewes, Del., where I staj^ed for a period of one month, en- 
deavoring all the while to obtain a release from active service. 

Early in January, 1919, I was transferred to the station 
at Camp May, and as luck would have it T again ran into 
quarantine of smallpox, which lasted six weeks, and during 



218 G. LEWIS SCHAFFER 

this time T was very active in mj^ efforts to obtain a release. 
At last the day the quarantine was lifted, February 1st, T, 
with several hundred others, sea bags on our shoulders, dashed 
through the gates for the last time and entered the life of 
freedom. 

G. Lewis Schaffer. 




GORDON S. C. SMYTH 



y^^ RAVEL to a state in the Union where there is as bad 
^^ a criminal record as could be found; board the worst 
railroad in that state ; and, at the end of that railroad, 
slide your wa}^ gingerly onto an ugly, dirty, greasy 
tug. Accomplish all this, and then if you are lucky you will 
be but thirty-five minutes away from the paradise of Paris 
Island. They used to call it Paris Island, but there were so 
many cries against the irony and insult of the name that, out 
of respect to the feelings of the marine rookies and the mari- 
nettes, the name was changed to Parris Island. 

Imagine yourself living on a little strip of an island with 
an extent of about nine square miles of sand and marsh. 
Imagine the isolation of that place inhabited by marines, and 
possibly a dozen colored families. Imagine the broiling heat 
of the summer when the thermometer registers 182 degrees 
in the shade of one of the five trees ! Imagine that doleful 
place, where you must choose between salt and sulphur water 
if you are thirsty. Picture the joy of the roads, all mud, and 
the parade grounds all sand, and the rest of the Island all 
swamp and marsh. Picture it all and realize that here you 
have an ideal training camp. 

In spite of all its horrors Parris Island makes an ideal 
training ground. Ugly and unlovely? Yes, but you've al- 
ways got the skies for your beauty. Hard and harsh? Yes, 
but you've always got the hearts and souls and common de- 
mocracy of your companions for comfort. And, above all, on 
that desolate island, you have the esprit de corps, the ideals 
and the inspiration of service always typified by the Marine 
Corps emblem and the motto "Semper Fidelis." For there 
one is trained not to be a mere fighting automaton, but a ma- 
rine ; one is trained not to fight merely with his hands, but 
with his heart. And how gloriously that training bore fruit 
on the battle fields of France has oft been told. 

(2T9) 



220 GORDON S. C. SMYTH 

It was on May 21, 1918, that I arrived at Parris Island to 
begin my training, and there I stayed for eleven months. 
Those of us who reached the Island on that day had had 
strenuous examinations in Philadelphia before we left, but 
they were nothing compared to those we were now put 
through. Finally, however, on May 24th, the examinations 
and other preliminaries were over, and we were thrown into 
the 102d Drill Company, commanded by a Drill Sergeant 
(who had been a banker) and Senior and Junior Corporals, 
who had lived as dancing master and bartender, respectively. 

They were good drill instructors in every sense of the 
word and they soon had us going through our paces in splen- 
did shape. AVe went through every stage of a marine's physi- 
cal training, from the double time in the dark of the first 
days to the firing on the range at daybreak in the last days. 
We drilled, and fought, and hiked, and carried shells and 
ashes, and qualified with the rifle like thousands of other ma- 
rines before us. We learned "stoop-falling" and "hit-'em- 
one," and all the wicked hand-holds in the world. Singing, 
too, plenty of it, even for those of us who couldn't carry a 
tune. Inspiring talks on the Marine Corps, encouragement, 
real leadership continued throughout our training. 

And then one day after eight and a half weeks they told 
us we were no longer "acting privates," but marines at last; 
and the happy ones "shoved off" for Quantico and overseas. 
But they wished three of us on the unsuspecting N. C. 0. 
School, where we were to be trained for drill instructors, and 
I was one of the unfortunate three. 

Trained we were. N. C. 0. School meant sixteen hours 
of hard, gruelling work every day. It meant nine parades 
and seven inspections a week, always as the leading battalion 
on the field, for the N. C. O. School was pointed out to the 
"boots" as the one crack drill organization. 

Drilling was but a small part of the work, however. We 
spent mornings of field work in musketry, in first aid, in theo- 
retical fighting ; we spent afternoons of bayonet fighting, 
which we learned from theory to actual personal combat in 
the trenches; we had hours of boxing and wrestling and 



GORDON S. C. SMYTH 221 



Swedish under arms; and then when the light of day had 
passed, we sat on our bunks and had class or studied. Never 
a moment to play ''ten-toes-up." 

Five weeks of this and then some of us were turned loose 
to act as Junior Corporals in the drill companies on the field. 

After that the variety ended to a great extent, as we 
trained company after company and did our best to instill 
into the men their responsibility as marines and the things 
for which the Marine Corps stands. True, there was always 
that wonderful opportunity for studying human nature, that 
opportunity for getting close to men for what they are really 
worth. It was inspiring as one took a raw company of mere 




Brabant, France — This Village was Actually Demolished by German 

Artillery Fire 

"boots" and was able to help mould them into a fit body of 
marines, to watch the development of character. Through 
all the life at Parris Island, this was the big thing — one's 
intimate contact with other men in an absolute democracy 
and unity of spirit. 

It was soon after I joined my first company as instructor 
that "Tom" Hansen surprised me by walking into my bar- 
racks. We had a good old talk and saw each other but once 
or twice more, as "Tom" shoved off the Island and left me 
behind at my job. 

Things broke as well for me as could be expected, and T 
ranged through Junior and then Senior Corporal until I had 



222 GORDON S. C. SMYTH 

a company of my own to develop. I was always blessed with 
good companions and fellow workers. 

One tour of duty I will long remember was Christmas 
day. At 3.30 Christmas eve I was summoned by special or- 
derly from Headquarters to take my company on guard, and 
4.30 saw me installed as commander of the main guard. It 
was pouring rain, and my poor reliefs had to trudge about 
shivering through the mud by the dim, uncertain light of lan- 
terns. An uneventful guard, I thought, as the sentinel 
sounded midnight on the bell — and uneventful it was except 
for two poor lads who got intoxicated on vanilla extract and 
tried to raise "old harry." So, sleepy and tired and wet, we 
came off duty at 4.30 Christmas afternoon, and were hardly 
able to enjoy our Christmas dinner, as we learned that we 
would have police duty the next day. 

Right after Christmas the Drill Instructors had a dance 
and I saw the first white women I had seen since I arrived 
at the Island. 

Early January saw me on an eight-day furlough and 
nearly raving because my train was twelve hours late on a 
twenty-hour run. Oh, the joy of being home for a while! 
And the come down on that return to camp. 

Of course, from the day of the signing of the armistice, 
we were impatiently eager to get home, but the Navy Depart- 
ment didn't want us to think about it, so we worked harder 
than ever, and filled in half the swamps with sand, leaving 
swamps behind us wherever we took away the sand. No let 
up in work and no material change in routine until a week 
before I came home. Then I turned in my equipment, and 
after a week of "ten-toes-up," the Colonel handed me my 
honorable discharge and the pay office gave me my munificent 
salary and I was on my way home. 

That is my simple (uninteresting) story, typical perhaps 
of the few of us who were fated to remain on Parris Island. 
"Tom" can vouch for the truth of most of it, and he'll prob- 
ably say that I was too lenient in my description of the Island. 
But "Tom" reall}^ did enjoy the beauty of the skies at night! 

Gordon S. Smyth 




^Av>y 



^:^>>>\5\^rv-v- 



^ - v2S\sljlW. 



X 



WARREN C. STEELE 

ATTENDED the First Officers' Training Camp from 
]\Iay 15, 1917, to August 15, 1917, being a member of 
the 2d Battery, Field Artillery. I received a com- 
mission as Second Lieutenant, Quartermaster Corps, 
on August 15th and was assigned to duty with the 79th Divi- 
sion at Camp Meade, Maryland, where I helped to break 
drafted men into military life. 

I served as Depot Quartermaster, in Baltimore, from No- 
vember 3, 1917, until June 30, 1918, buying supplies for Camp 
xMeade and Camp Lee. I was then transferred to Depot Quar- 
termaster at Atlanta, Ga., at which station I remained until 
September 27, 1918, when I was ordered to Iloboken, N. J., 
for transportation to France. 

We sailed on November 6tli on the S. S. "Adriatic" and 
landed at Liverpool, England, November 17th. We were then 
immediately ordered to Southampton, where we were put on 
another transport sailing for Le Havre, France. 

I was assigned to duty with Department No. 3, Base Sec- 
tion No. 2, which was a large supply base, fourteen miles from 
Bordeaux, in the southern part of France. 

This camp consisted of about five hundred officers, five 
thousand white troops, four thousand colored troops, seven- 

(223) 



224 



WARREN C. STEELE 



teen hundred German prisoners and one thousand Animites 
or French Golonial troops from Indo-China. 

Supplies were shipped from this camp to an intermediate 
camp in central France, and from there to advanced depots 
at Is-sur-Tille, and from there they were sent to railheads, 
where the divisional trains received the supplies from the 
railhead officer for the troops at the front. 



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French Tanks used by the Americans in the St. Mihiel Drive, 

September, 1918 

I was ordered to Genicart on June 19, 1919, which is the 
embarkation camp of the port of Bordeaux. From Genicart 
I was sent to Brest, where I sailed for home on June 29, 1919, 
on the S. S. ''Leviathan," the largest transport in the world. 

We landed at Hoboken, N. J., on July 5th, and was ordered 
to Camp Dix, at which camp I was honorably discharged from 
service on July 25, 1919, thus completing over two years in 
the service. 



Warren C. Steele. 




PHOTO BY BACHRACH 



/y^^/r^a/7 ^_JSl yoo</^^ 



HAMILTON D. VOGDES 



CD 



AY 6, 1917, I made application for the First Officers^ 
Training at Fort Niagara and received an "A" rat- 
ing, but I was never called due to a mix-up of A, B 
and C classifications. On June 11, 1917, I then en- 
listed in the Naval Reserve at the Philadelphia Navy Yard, 
and on August 24, 1917, made written application for foreign 
service to the Bureau of Navigation. 

September 12, 1917, I was ordered to duty aboard the 
U. S. S. "Vaterland," and later the U. S. S. "Leviathan." I 
served on board this latter boat until July 6, 1918. 

From July 27, 1918, until June 30, 1919, I was stationed 
at Washington, D. C, and on June 30, 1919, I was placed on 
the inactive list. Rank — Ensign, U. S. N. R. F. 

Hamilton D. Vogdes. 



(225) 




The U. S. S. "Leviathan," formerly the German Steamship 
"Vaterland" — The vessel on which Hamilton D. Vogdes spent part 
of his active service, 



WENDELL H. WALKER 



OiN the 19th of September, 1917, I entered the army as 
^^ an "expert motor ambulance driver." The next day, 
^k^a the 20th of September, I was ordered to Camp Meade, 
Md., along with about fifteen hundred chauffeurs, 
expert mechanics, horseshoers, watchmakers and professional 
gamblers. We arrived in Meade that afternoon about 3 
o'clock. The rest of that day was taken up with the work of 
filling our bedsacks, being assigned to barracks and getting 
whatever equipment for soldiers as was ready for us, same 
being issued in grab-bag fashion. For a whole week I looked 
as much like a soldier as a fellow possibly could with a cam- 
paign hat, an "0. D." shirt, a pair of civilian trousers, and 
wearing a pair of army shoes two sizes too large. 

At that I felt real, even if I didn't look it. Incidentally, 
those gamblers that were with us made the boys forget their 
mechanical ideas and won them to their own profession be- 
fore that long week was nearly finished. And those seven 
days were long, because we simply laid around and ate three 
terrible meals each day, and thought and wondered, and then 
thought some more. 

The third week found our outfit in overalls, building three 
nice stables to accommodate two hundred horses and mules. 
We couldn't understand why perfectly good chauffeurs 

(227) 



228 WENDELL H. WALKER 

should be building homes for mules, but the exclamation, 
"You're in the army now," seemed to end all arguments. In- 
deed, it was surprising the way the fellows worked — such 
skill and sore backs. 

At last we saw light. Our dreams of driving a newly 
painted Ford ambulance were blasted. Instead of being the 
dandy masters of four cylinders, we found ourselves valets 
to four nicely tempered mules. In other words, we changed 
from a "Motor Driven Ambulance Company" to an "Animal 
Drawn Company." However, there was one consolation in 
the new arrangement. Our Major told us that our job was 
to go right to the front lines in place of the motor ambu- 
lances, whose motors the Germans could hear and thereby 
easily locate our forces in the field. My! We were certainly 
glad to hear that. We were a company of one hundred and 
fifty-three, and during that week there were only eighty-four 
applications for transfer. 

From then on we were known as "Ambulance Company 
316 A. D.," a part of the famous 79th Division. I am sorry 
-I cannot tell what we said "A. D." stood for, but we had fifty- 
two mules in our outfit and each ambulance had four of them 
geared to it. All told, we had one hundred and twenty-eight 
head of mules and horses. The seventy-six horses were mainly 
for officers and their lady friends to exercise — at least, they 
were the people who mostly used them. 

Anyway, that's how we started. And then for nine months 
we labored around Camp Meade, getting ready for the big 
show across the pond. Some pretty tough months we had, 
too, but when the final word to leave came we were in the 
pink of condition and ready for anything. Who wouldn't 
be after nursing four mules for three-quarters of a year? 

On Monday, July 8, 1918, we pulled out of Camp Meade, 
and it was just like "leaving home," because the boys had be- 



WENDELL H. WALKER 229 

come so used to the place. We soon picked up enthusiasm, 
though, as the train pulled out of Admiral, Md., and we knew 
we were at last started on that trip we had heard so much 
about. Some of the fellows felt even better when we reached 
Baltimore, for there were a hundred girls trying to kiss each 
soldier good-bye. I might add that my own spirits were the 
same as when I left Admiral — when one of our Lieutenants 
was giving me ten orders that he wanted carried out and 
about nine of which I must confess I forgot entirely. Despite 




Bras, France — Artillery Fire From Both Sides Reduced This Town 

to a Mass of Ruins 

my negligence, however, we landed in Jersey City at 8 A. M. 
of July 9th, and there curled up on three feet of seating 
capacity for a good night's rest. 

The next day we boarded the French transport "Lutetia," 
and, after waiting a day while our provisions were being 
loaded, we set sail at 7 o'clock on the morning of July 10th 
for "Sunny France." There were fourteen boats in our con- 
voy, but not one of them apparently was even noticed by any 
German submarine, although we offered all an eleven-day 
chance. I might say here that it was the most pleasant trip 



230 WENDELL H. WALKER 

I had across the ocean — but since it was my first crossing 
this does not mean so much. 

We landed in Brest, France, the 21st of July, 1918, at 8 
o'clock. It was a wonderful day and the little town on the 
hill looked very pretty from the promenade — the officers said 
so. As a matter of fact, it did not look "so worse" from a 
ship's port-hole. If I had known then what I know now I 
probably would have slept and taken more rest prior to that 
landing. 

We actually set foot on land at 11.45 A. M., and then, 
after a march up a three-mile hill, we pitched our pup-tents 
in the mud, three inches of it. Now I know why pigs have 
such a wonderful time. In spite of the mud and also of the 
rain which fell steadily the next four days we managed to 
live there until the 25th, when we struck tents at 8 P. M. 
The moon favored us that night, so we built a big fire, and, 
during the watchful-waiting drying out process, we sang 
nearly all the songs we had ever learned. 

As luck (whether bad or good, I can't say), would have 
it, I had an old ukelele with me. This was the only available 
musical instrument and it just had to go. The condition of 
the pre-finger of my right hand can be imagined when I say 
we sang until 4 A. M. the next morning, at which time we 
slipped on the "rag-babies" and practically fell down that 
awful hill to the place where we boarded our "train." Our 
"train" consisted of cars that had just carried horses across 
country. That statement will give an idea of the condition 
of the cars. 

Our train pulled out at 8 A. M. on the morning of July 
26th to start one of the most delightful trips I have ever 
taken. Our course was through cities of some size, such as 
Le Bierne, Rennes, Tours, Le Mans, Nevers and Dijon. Fi- 
nally, after passing tliroiigh Is-sur-Tille, we arrived at a very 



WENDELL H. WALKER 231 

small town named Villegusien, which is approximately 30 
miles south of Verdun and which was to be our training area. 
We arrived there after three days of slow travel at 5 A. M., 
July the 29th. Within an hour's time I and my squad were 
safe in our billet — a cow shed owned by the town barber, a 
woman about fifty-two j^ears old. Despite the convenience 
of her shop, we never let her work on us. I felt sorry for 
her cows though, because they were robbed of a home for a 
month and a half. However, every one was making a sacrifice 
at that time. 



Huts Built by French Soldiers Near the Battle Front — Those Having 

Accommodations Similar to these were Considered 

Fortunate 

It was in this little town of Villegusien that we put on 
the final touches for our work that was to come later. From 
5.15 in the morning until 9 at night we were absolutely "on 
the go." Pitching tents, striking tents and then pitching them 
again, until we wished that man who invented tents had died 
before he did it. At this time we were also introduced to the 
real gas mask and helmet — our enemies then, but our great 
friends later. Our drills with the gas masks were very agoniz- 
ing. Our first attempt was to keep one on for four hours. 
I did so for one hour and a half and then quit with a splitting 



232 WENDELL H. WALKER 

headache, a swollen tongue and fallen adenoids. After sev- 
eral more drills I could just about keep the mask on the full 
time. 

The next drill was to walk about three miles with the 
mask on and rest awhile and walk back. The next drill with 
the gas mask on was to carry a patient, two men to a litter. 
I will not enumerate all the things we did, such as digging big 
holes and filling them up again, but when we left there on 
Sunday morning, September 8th, at 9.30 A. M., we were cer- 
tainly a hardened lot of "pill-rollers," as our rough brothers, 
the "doughboys," nick-named us. 

Then followed our first journey toward the front, and we 
were a happy bunch, because we knew it would take us a 
week to get there. We marched for two days in the rain, 
and, after boarding a train at a place called La Ferte Amance, 
we arrived in Longeville at 10 A. M., September 11th, in the 
midst of the worst rainfall we had seen. After standing 
around for two hours we marched to a farm about three miles 
away and made ourselves comfortable in a big stable. I must 
say that we were very nicely fixed there. The warm hay was 
a great relief. 

We stayed there for four days. The farm was on the out- 
skirts of Bar-le-Duc, and we certainly enjoj^ed ourselves in 
that city. We took nice, hot baths there and ate some good 
meals at the modern hotel, and got an excellent night's rest 
in those wonderful French beds. I know one fellow who was 
so pleased at the sight of those beds that he engaged a room 
that had two in it and then slept on the floor between them. 

It was while I was in Bar-le-Duc that I learned a good 
lesson. There were about twelve of us eating dinner at the 
modern hotel when a very nice-looking girl entered the cafe. 
Being very young and knowing she was French, I said, 
"You're the best-looking chicken I've seen yet." Imagine how 



WENDELL H. WALKER 233 

embarrassed I felt when she turned to me and said, "Thank 
you, sir, I have never heard that expression before." It ap- 
peared that she was a milliner and had been in business in 
New York City for three years and understood English. I 
was never so fresh again. 

We left Bar-le-Duc the night of September 14th in big 
trucks on our way to the front. On this same night my cousin, 
who is really more like a sister to me, was getting married in 
America. On the morning of September 15th we unloaded 
from the trucks about six kilometers from the front lines near 
Esne. That night we moved up into dug-outs about three 




Romagne, France — Captured by Americans in the Last Days of tne 
War, After Being in German Possession for Several Years 

kilometers further on and waited for the "big drive" to open. 

According to schedule, the fireworks started the morning 
of September 26th and the lid sure came off with a bang. 
And the boche never stopped a minute, either, until the 11th 
of November. 

It was on the morning of November 11th that I met Jack 
Purdy at 9 o'clock, and he gave me the word that all firing 
would cease at 11 o'clock. I am now here to state that he 
delivered the best news I have ever heard. We had heard 
those "G. I. cans" since the ir)th of September, and to know 



234 WENDELL H. WALKER 

we were to stop hearing them seemed more wonderful than 
I can tell. Our Captain then suggested to me that he and I 
join a nearby French battery and try to finally square up 
some old debts with the Germans. So we did that, and for 
two hours the Captain and I jammed as many shells at those 
square-heads as any artillery man could have done. And 
that ended the active war for me. 

Later we moved back to Glorieux, near Verdun, and stayed 
there until the first of 1919. Then we journeyed to Pierre- 
fitte. I might add that I spent the Christmas holidays on 
pass at Aix-les-Bains and "a pleasant time was had by all" 
for nine days there. When I finally returned to Pierrefitte 
that time the change was something awful. In that small 
town we simply laid around thereafter waiting for the word 
to go home. Finally it came. On the 1st of April we started 
for Rimaucourt, and after a three days' hike fetched up in 
that great hospital centre. We stayed there for three weeks 
more and then boarded the train for the embarkation port of 
St. Nazaire. 

Later, after passing overseas inspection, we boarded the 
good ship "Shoshone" on May 15, 1919, for the "Old Country." 
This time it was not such a good trip across, but any one who 
enjoyed rough water could have had a nice time. It took us 
seventeen days, and they were long days, at that. Hut on 
the 1st of June we entered Delaware Bay. 

I shall never be able to express in words what my feelings 
then were. It was a most wonderful, never-to-be-forgotten 
day, and during it I feasted my eyes on the good, old Ameri- 
can shore, and later also on my whole family, who came down 
the river on a tugboat to meet and welcome me. Is it strange 
that I cannot express myself? 

The following days were taken up in "shaking off the 
yolk" at Camp Dix, but the ir)th of June found me a free 
man again. 



WENDELL H. WALKER 235 

To say my experiences as a soldier were not wonderful 
would be foolish. I feel as many others do, that the training 
and work did me a great deal of good, in spite of the many 
hardships. Would I do it again? That question could only 
be answered in the event of another similar great emergency. 
I do not ever ask it of myself now. 

Wendell H. Walker. 





PHOTO BY BACHRACH 



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© 



FRED N. WATERBURY 

"GREETINGS" 

HAT was the wonderful word which flashed before my 
eyes one morning, and, like so many of the other boys, 
I was perfectly willing to answer the call and put on 
the old brown uniform. It was on July 25, 1918, that 
we took the train for Upton, and it was sweltering hot. When 
we jumped off the train we were met with cries of "O boys, 
wait till you get the needle," and the next day they did not 
disappoint us. ''We got it." 

Although not one of the lucky ones to see any action, I 
managed to find enough work to keep any average man busy 
for eleven long months. 

On June 27, 1919, after helping to muster out thousands 
of the home-coming troops, my turn came and they handed 
me "That little piece of paper." Wasn't that a grand and 
glorious feelin'? I'll say it was. 

Fred N. Waterbury. 



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